


Bloody Soul

by Silvandar



Series: A Kiss To Remember - OtaYuri Vampire/Nephilim AU [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Nephilim, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dark Magic, Descriptions of Injury, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Gay Sex, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Magic, Master/Pet, MichEmil, MilaSara, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Nephilim, Phichimetti, Psychic Abilities, References to PTSD, References to Sexual Slavery, Sequel, Soul Bond, Vampires, VictUuri, Violence, Yaoi, implied BDSM, implied Victometti, otayuri - Freeform, references to colonisation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-09-02 21:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 65,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16795396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvandar/pseuds/Silvandar
Summary: Sequel to "Bloody Love."Vampire/Nephilim AU following the intrigue and plots of a vampiric dynasty in upheaval.Now bonded for eternity, vampire protege Yuri Plisetsky and his nephilim lover Otabek Altin have to find strong allies and defeat old enemies as they prepare for the fight of their lives against Yuri's hated sire, Viktor.New faces and dark secrets are revealed as Viktor takes his seat on the Council of Elders, and centuries old plans swing into motion.Heavily inspired by track"Demons"by Imagine Dragons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the playlists I've been listening to for this fic:  
> ["Cyber Industrial" - Otabek's music](https://open.spotify.com/user/silvandar/playlist/4drjgKqr0p5H9ApdQ3ZaSb?si=6ikA0PxERtyhqEz26sUsxA)  
> ["Melodic Metal" - inspiration for sex scenes <3](https://open.spotify.com/user/silvandar/playlist/6fL4rn3cCyiBSxcmsW27HU?si=MQ5K9N4zS9ScQqoM3ZC51A)  
> ["Alternative Rock" - some of my favourite writing music](https://open.spotify.com/user/silvandar/playlist/641ceexfOG4430Nms1J3Nw?si=4lNXrg_bRKmo8YLNC-v48g)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! I'm so excited to be working on this already <3 I'm addicted!

The tidy Portland street slumbered under a thick sheet of rain as the taxi drew up to the house, a spring chill in the air. For the new arrivals from Alaska, it felt warm and smothering as they got out of the car.

“Who's the hot guy leaning on our new wall?”

Otabek glanced at Michele, following his line of sight and taking in the tall, smiling figure lurking under a dripping umbrella.

“'Hot guy' eh?” he teased, and the Italian gave him a disgusted look.

“I've got eyes” he muttered, grabbing his bag from the boot as the nephilim chuckled at him. “Give me a break.”

Climbing out of the back seat, Yuri noticed Otabek's gaze and raised an eyebrow as the stranger pushed himself away from the stone. A genuine smile of pleasure ghosted across the blonde's usually pinched face, and he crossed to the house, catching the stranger in a rough embrace and talking animatedly.

“Oh... he's one of _them_ ” Michele said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice. Otabek restrained himself from patting him on the shoulder, settling for a grunt of acknowledgement instead. He was staring in confusion at the stranger's aura, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. To his eyes, the stranger had looked human at first glance, and only the way he physically responded to Yuri's embrace told Otabek he had vampiric strength.

“Let's get inside” Yuri called back as Mila and Sara got out of the second cab, grimacing at the rain. Otabek nodded and helped Michele grab the rest of the luggage, following the two happily chatting vampires into the building. They were speaking Old Norse, and from what Otabek could hear, bantering about the strangers haircut and Yuri's outfit. Clearly, this was a very old friend, and Otabek was instantly curious. Yuri didn't _have_ friends, at least none the nephilim had met.

“Layout then introductions” the blonde said, as they gathered in the large reception room on the ground floor. “House is split in half; light proof suites are on the left, nice, big, sunny vampire death traps on the right. I'm guessing the twins put me on the first floor, they usually do... so Mila, you have a choice of three floors for your suite.”

The redhead nodded, her expression curious. Yuri's tone was light and he was still smiling slightly, and the stranger was openly staring at the rest of them with a cheerful expression on his face. Otabek gazed at him, silently agreeing with Michele's initial assessment; short, light brown hair and steel blue eyes, athletic build... definitely attractive, and Yuri's behaviour towards him was very reassuring.

“Mila, this is Emil. Emil, this is my sister, Mila.” Yuri gestured at the other three. “Sara, Mila's partner, and her brother Michele. And this is Otabek” he finished, gesturing at the nephilim casually. One look at Emil's face told the nephilim that the attempt at 'casual' had not gone unnoticed; the new vampire grinned and winked at Otabek, then gave a tiny bow to the other three.

“Nice to meet you” his accent was similar to Yuri's, but far more Americanised, and he smiled with real warmth when he spoke. As he nodded to Michele, the Italian paled and shrank behind Mila, and Otabek noticed a shadow brush across the taller vampire's shimmering, lively aura, telegraphing sadness at the reaction.

“I hope you don't mind us trespassing”, Yuri said, and Emil laughed out loud. The sound was bright and happy, and the blonde smiled again.

“You're always welcome, Yuri. You know that!”

“Mind if we settle in?” Mila asked, indicating the cowering twin behind her with a slight roll of her eyes. “Hungry and tired isn't ideal for making new friends.”

Yuri shrugged, expressing his lack of interest with an eloquent gesture. Turning to Emil, he raised an eyebrow. “Have you eaten? There should be supplies for everyone in the kitchen.”

“I'm fine, thanks. I'll help you look, if you like?”

Following the two vampires into the kitchen, Otabek watched Mila lead the twins upstairs and sighed. Catching the expression on his face, Yuri paused mid conversation and stared at him.

“What's the matter?”

“Hmm? Oh... Mickey. He's not getting any better. I don't know how to help him.”

Yuri sighed and began searching for the bottled blood he knew the twins had laid in for him. “It's not your problem” he said, ignoring Otabek's growl. “He's Sara's brother, which makes him Mila's...”

“I thought we were leaving Viktor's crap behind” Otabek snapped, “Including all that _pet_ bullshit.” Yuri straightened, irked by his tone.

“ _Problem._ Mila's _problem_ , I was going to say. Don't growl at me, I'm hungry too. There's a stocked fridge there, have at it.”

Grunting, Otabek reluctantly tuned in to his body, discovering that he was indeed hungry, and extra grumpy as a result. Turning to the fridge, he found Emil pulling out steak and onions for him with a curious look on his face.

“Mickey... that's the pretty boy with your sister, right?”

“Mmm” Yuri said, crowing as he finally located the chiller containing the bottles. Sighing with relief, he uncorked and drank, wincing at the cold taste and placing a second bottle in the warmer. “Nasty” he murmured, too hungry not to drink anyway.

“What's wrong with him?”

“Hmm... That boy is broken. You remember Leo Cortez?”

Emil nodded, a tense expression flickering over his face.

“He and my youngest brother used Michele as a chew toy for a few months” Yuri said, sighing and setting the bottle down as Otabek gave him a glare. “Viktor” he added, as an explanation.

Understanding immediately, Emil shook his head. “That's horrible” he said, and Otabek blinked at the sadness in his aura.

“What's with you” the nephilim asked, and both vampires stared at him. “You're so... so... I've never seen a vampire with an aura like yours. You feel nearly... human.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, and Emil laughed. “You're psychic? I knew you'd be special, to put up with him” he gave Yuri a fond look, “but gifted as well?”

“He's a nephilim” Yuri said, and Otabek swung round, staring at him incredulously.

“Yuri!”

“It's fine” the blonde said, “Emil is one of my oldest friends. He's the reason I chose Portland, actually” he added, as the taller vampire stared at Otabek with profound respect.

“Wow! I've never met a nephilim before!” he smiled, and Otabek shrugged, watching the curiosity play through his aura. Unable to see any indication of threat or sinister intent, the Kazakh decided to indulge his own curiosity.

“And I've never met someone Yuri actually likes. How do you two know each other?” he asked, turning back to his cooking. Yuri groaned, and Emil grinned and clapped his hands together.

“Story time! So... we met in Greenland” the taller vampire said, and Yuri rolled his eyes again, turning to his freshly warmed blood. “When the locals decided to explore the nearby landmass, I went with them, and Yuri followed after.”

“This again? Fuck you” Yuri said, companionably.

“I got here first” Emil replied, grinning.

“ _By ten minutes”_ Yuri snapped, shaking his finger at his friend. “And that was only because you jumped off the boat first and swam two miles in a storm.”

“Honestly, the state of that boat” Emil shuddered, “humans and bad weather do not mix. I was so desperate to get off, as soon as I saw land I was gone.”

“I crawled up the beach and found him sat on a rock, eating a seagull and grinning at me. He'd written 'mine' on the sand” Yuri sighed, and shrugged. “Pathetic really.”

“You ate a _seagull?_ ”

“I hadn't eaten for nearly two weeks while we were on the ship, I was desperate” Emil shrugged. Yuri winced, and Otabek raised an eyebrow, trying to imagine Yuri being that restrained.

“I didn't know you could go that long without food, Yuri.”

“I didn't” the blonde sighed, and Emil gave him a sad pat on the shoulder. Otabek nodded, serving up his dinner and wandering towards the nearest chair, the prospect of food distracting him from the antics of the two old friends for a while as they caught up on recent history. Hearing his name brought him out of his binge eating trance and he glanced up, raising an eyebrow.

“What was that about me?”

“Kicking Viktor off the Island” Emil said, “it sounds like you had a pretty steep learning curve there. How are you coping with it?”

“Fine” Otabek said, warily. Yuri sighed again, and reached over for the nephilim's hand, drawing him against him for a cuddle.

“You can trust Emil, I promise” the blonde said as Otabek settled against him. “He's not physically capable of hating anyone, but if he was, Viktor would be at the top of his list.”

“Why, what did he do to you?” Otabek asked, and Emil frowned.

“Nothing. I've never met him.”

“Then why...”

“Emil found me when I arrived in Greenland” Yuri explained, “after Georgi... sent me there. I was out of control, permanently starving and attacking every human in sight. He... I don't know what the word is. Rehabilitated? He put me back together, I suppose.”

Otabek stared at the smiling vampire sat beside them, watching the flickers of his aura. “You... you looked after him?”

“Mmm. He wasn't that hard to look after, really... once he stopped killing people, of course. I made him eat horses for a few weeks, it calmed him down. Very strong beasts; they can take a lot of draining without getting sick, and their blood has a sedative effect on us.”

“A-are you... do you only eat animals?”

Emil threw his head back and laughed, and Yuri gave him an affectionate look. “No” he chuckled, “nothing like that. But desperate times call for desperate measures. I spent a few decades travelling around central Europe during a plague, there wasn't much else to eat between villages.”

Thinking back over the conversation, Otabek returned to a comment Yuri had made. “You said Emil is why we moved here... what does that mean?”

“I told you in Alaska, I wanted allies. Emil hates politics, and won't get involved with our family spat, but he _will_ protect his territory.”

“I've lived in Maine for nearly five hundred years” Emil said, sighing and giving Yuri a resigned look. “I like my home to be orderly and quiet, with no vampire nonsense. So of course, this little hellcat decides to bring all manner of troubles to my door, knowing full well I'll protect him while he's here.”

“Sorry about that” Yuri said, without a trace of regret. Emil sighed again and then glanced at his watch.

“I'd better get going” he said, “I'm on the other side of town, and taxis here are less than reliable.”

“Stay here” Yuri offered, and Otabek gaped at him. “You heard me earlier, there's plenty of space. Besides” his expression became mischievous, “you won't get to know Michele if you're on the other side of town.”

“Yuri...” Otabek protested, “Mickey's in no state to...”

“Hush” the blonde said, as Emil shrugged and sat back down. “if anyone can undo some of the damage done to that boy, it's him. Just... don't interfere.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dimitri's dacha was ice cold, the air crackling and the walls covered with a sheen of frost. Waking up alone in the windowless suite, he'd been able to see his breath steam and freeze in the air. Dressing in his thickest winter clothes and wrapping a blanket around himself, Yuuri Katsuki made his way to the kitchens, correctly assuming Viktor hadn't bothered instructing the staff to turn on the heat. Finding a little group of nervous Russians huddled around a small log fire, he sighed and said a silent prayer for at least one English speaker.

He was disappointed, and made a mental promise to learn Russian as soon as possible. For the time being, he decided gestures, pointing and saying nouns until he had the gist of things would have to do. The staff at the dacha seemed to be an extended family group, judging by the similarities in bone structure and features. Yuuri suspected they may have come with the inheritance of the house, a clause that Viktor probably hadn't even noticed. Offering the shivering children his blanket and giving permission for the ancient boiler to be fired up using hand signs and miming, he left them to it and went in search of his vampiric owner.

Viktor was in the garden, standing barefoot in six inches of snow while Makkachin played in the drifts. Still wearing his travelling clothes, he was covered in a fine layer of frost himself, lost in thought as he looked towards the mountains in the distance. Shivering, Yuuri closed the glass door and stood in front of him until ocean blue eyes shifted to his face and the vampire animated like a living statue.

“It's too cold out here for you, my love” Viktor murmured, taking in the goosebumps on his pets skin. Yuuri shrugged, and indicated the house.

“It's cold inside too... they're terrified of you, too scared to even put the heat on without your permission...”

“Ah... I'm sorry my love, I won't have time to think about any of that. Deal with the house as you see fit” Viktor said, running his fingers through his pet's hair. He kissed him softly, then gently led him back inside, resting his hand on the back of his neck. The gesture was familiar and comforting to the smaller man, despite the chill of Viktor's skin, and he leaned against his owner as they walked.

A stranger was waiting in the main hallway of the dacha, and Yuuri blinked in surprise as he bowed to Viktor. Tall, slender and handsome, with short brown hair and intensely blue eyes, he was dressed for snow and wore an expression of permanent mild concern.

“Georgi” Viktor said, curling his lip at his brother. “What a _nice_ surprise.” Turning to his pet, he kissed his forehead and dismissed him.

“It's freezing in here” Georgi said, eyeing the ice crystals on the inside of the windows.

“Yuuri will deal with it” Viktor said, and Georgi raised an eyebrow.

“Yuuri?”

“My _pet”_ the sorcerer glared at his brother warningly. “I'd recommend you don't mention the _other one_ at the moment. My temper... well, you understand.” Georgi nodded, his expression carefully blank.

Moving through the house together, Viktor led them to a huge lounge, noticing the floor was starting to feel warmer under his feet. Dropping into a couch, he indicated his brother should sit.

“I'm surprised you came here first” Georgi said, stripping out of his parka and perching on the edge of the couch. “The Council meeting is only three days away.”

“I wanted to settle Yuuri in, he'll have the place in hand by the time I get back from Rome. Besides, it's been nearly three hundred years since I was last in Russia, I got nostalgic.”

“It's smaller than you remember” Georgi shrugged, “a lot of territory was lost last century.”

“Yakov must have hated that.”

“He wasn't impressed, but Dimitri convinced him that the dawn of the atomic age provided greater scope for slaughter, and that borders didn't matter very much any more.”

“Dimitri... what a hideous creature he was. Yakov 2.0.”

“We are what we're made. I was lucky I suppose... Yakov found me during a rare heroic phase, when he believed in fighting for causes.”

“What does that makes me?” Viktor wondered, stretching out and watching as a terrified human slipped into the room, carrying firewood. She busied herself lighting the fire, and Viktor nodded at her encouragingly, making her squeak with fear.

“Oh that's easy” Georgi said, “Yakov once told me that he was in a fury over the fire at the Library of Alexandria, and you were one of the last relics he could save.”

Viktor stared at him and then laughed out loud, throwing his head back. “By the gods... he's right, you know. I'd never thought about it like that. Hah.”

“I need to know your plans” Georgi said, resting his elbows on his knees as he changed the subject. “I'm committed to supporting you, but I can't do that if you start bouncing off in strange directions.” Realising he only had part of Viktor's attention, he hardened his tone. “What are you going to tell the Council about Yakov's death?”

“H-how long will you be away?”

“I don't know, my love. Three, maybe four weeks? You'll be fine” Viktor handed his tearful pet a list of names and phone numbers, all with Moscow area codes. “These are for Georgi's staff at his dacha. They'll help you with anything you need, and apparently the one named Sophia speaks decent English. By the time I get back, you'll have this place sparkling and new, I know it.”

Tucking his pet into his arms, Viktor stroked his hair, murmuring reassurances. Beside them, his chocolate poodle thumped his tail on the carpet, just happy that his two favourite people were in the same room for a while. Yuuri snuffled back tears, and brushed his lips against Viktor's collarbone with a sigh.

“I miss A-Alaska.”

“Don't talk about that place, my love” Viktor's tone was still soft and warm, but there was an edge to it. Yuuri had never heard that edge until the day Yuri Plisetsky had returned to the manor, and Viktor had announced they were moving to Russia. Now, it was more and more frequent. It scared him, and he shivered in his owner's arms, his heart hardening a little more towards the tiny blonde.

“I-I'm sorry...”

Sighing, the sorcerer uncurled from his pet and kissed him one last time. “I know it's a lot to take, moving half way across the world and leaving everything you knew behind. When I come back from Rome, I'll explain as much as I can. For now, just know that this was always part of my plan, I just didn't expect... well, I didn't expect my child to betray me the way he did. I'm still adjusting to that. Have patience with me, my love.”

Yuuri couldn't really argue with that, so he simply stood in the doorway holding Makkachin's collar as they watched their owner leave. The tall brunette opened the car door for the sorcerer respectfully, and then climbed into the limo opposite him, the car crunching over the snow as they set out for the airport.

Following up on his promise to learn Russian, Yuuri spent a few days at Georgi's dacha with Sophia, learning about the various intricacies of running a house in Moscow and trying to get to grips with some of the language. While exploring the shopping district in the capital, they got talking about preparing the dacha for guests. That inevitably led to a comment that surprised the Japanese enough to make him stop dead in the middle of a furniture store.

“ _You met Otabek?_ He was here??”

“With his boyfriend, yes. The tiny blonde one... isn't his name Yuuri too?”

“Different spelling... wait, did you just say _boyfriend?_ ”

She nodded, sitting down on a leather couch and poking it. “This one would be good for a lounge... yes, boyfriend. Why?”

“W-what makes you say that?” Yuuri sat beside her, his curiosity peaking. He couldn't imagine anything that would make _that_ pair appear to be a couple; even though Otabek had returned to the manor by choice, everyone there had known his owner wasn't capable of the kind of relationship implied.

To his surprise, Sophia blushed. “Well... let's just say that Georgi's dacha has very _thin_ walls in the servants quarters, and Yuri visited Otabek there a few times. They were very... enthusiastic with each other. Definitely more than just” she made a gesture indicating biting, and Yuuri stared at her blankly for a moment before understanding dawned.

“He... he wh... oh. Oh! Oh my god...” staring at her, his face crimson, Yuuri shook his head. “I... I need some air” he declared, walking blindly out of the store. Following him with a look of concern, Sophia found him leaning on a wall outside, breathing deeply.

“What's the matter? You're upset... were you and he...”

“No! No... it's just that... I didn't know. He... after everything, he didn't trust me enough to tell me... I was so worried about him b-being l-lonely... and he knew that... but he s-still didn't t-tell me...” Yuuri closed his eyes, unable to fight back the tears. “Viktor was right” he murmured, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes, his voice heartbroken. “T-they lied to both of us... they lied all along.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Yuuri noooo :(


	3. Chapter 3

Rome never seemed quite _real_ to Viktor, no matter how many times he visited. Walking through the streets, he heard electronic music and dozens of different of languages chiming together, smelled street food and car fumes in dizzying combination. All hallmarks of the modern age; yet he could see the towering arch of the coliseum, and the gleaming marble of Centro Storico, standing and beloved even after hundreds of years. Bemused by the clash of past and present, he wandered the streets, buffeted by the crowds of humans that thronged the eternal city until the early hours of the morning.

His destination was tucked away in a back street, and busy with tourists even at 3am. The bubbling sound of the Fontana de Trevi beckoned him, and with a happy sigh Viktor sat on the marble surround, watching the water playing over the myriad coins dotting the bottom.

“Were you here when this was built?” he asked as a tall brunette came and stood beside him, his pale green eyes wandering across the marble figures of the sea gods and horses. With a nostalgic smile, Celestino looked down at the sorcerer and nodded.

“Salvi died before it was finished, but I think he would have been proud of it. It saddened me when the humans let it fall to smog and dust. Internal combustion is both my most and least favourite of their inventions.”

Running his fingers through the water, Viktor gestured to the coins. “Why do they throw money into the water?”

“Supposedly, it guarantees your return to Rome” Celestino pulled a coin from his pocket and offered it to the silver haired vampire. “Care to indulge in tradition?”

Viktor took the coin and turned it over in his fingers, watching the flashes of the water gleam on the metal. “Tradition... we are slaves to it” he murmured, then flicked the coin into the water. “I'll be returning to this city of the ages, have no doubt.”

The Council chamber was in a town house off the Piazza del Popolo; a looming affair with large windows that offered a superb night view. Exquisitely decorated, the room featured a perfectly round, polished oak conference table, with seven high backed, ornate chairs. Doors led off to small, private rooms, and the high walls boasted original Old Master canvasses, originals worth several times the value of the house itself. On a low stand to the side sat a massive cornucopia adorned with fresh fruits and flowers; the only living thing in the room.

Silence fell as Celestino and Viktor entered, and five sets of eyes fixed on the newcomer. The Italian slipped into his seat and watched as the sorcerer stood behind the empty chair to his immediate right, running pale fingers over the carvings with a distant look in his eyes.

“I never expected to be standing here.” Viktor's voice shook slightly with emotion, and he drew the chair back from the table, still lost in thought. “To me, Yakov was an eternal force. His loss is a tragedy.”

Leaning forward, the Third Seat clicked her tongue softly. “Yet here you are” she said, her expression unreadable. Viktor looked up at her and nodded, then took his seat at the table with a sigh.

“I am here to discharge my duty as uncontested heir to the Siberian throne” he said, formally. “I take little pleasure in this” he added, as the occupants of the other Seats exchanged glances. Celestino nodded, and indicated the gathered Elders.

“Does the Council accept this duty, and acknowledge this one as Second Seat?”

As the ancient occupants of the room nodded and cast their votes in his favour, Viktor fought back a savage grin, letting his claws leave imprints in the arms of his throne, silently marking his new territory.

“Where the hell is my grandson in all of this? He was supposed to be keeping an eye on that silver haired lunatic.”

Zhao Feiyan glared at the vampires surrounding her, who universally ducked their heads and made noises of apology for their ignorance. The hours following the Council meeting to initiate the heir to Yakov's throne had been hectic, and the Vampire Emperor of Asia had grown tired of her sycophants and their woeful lack of information. Irritated, the Third Seat turned her back on all of them and stared out of the window, her eyes narrowing as she watched Celestino and Viktor cross the plaza, laughing together.

“How could Yakov be so stupid as to let that _Mogui_ kill him. Arrange for his death, I should say, Viktor would never be brave enough to strike the final blow himself. Do we know who _did_ kill him?”

Another chorus of apologies, and the Chinese vampire spun and stormed out of the room, heading towards her limousine.

“Useless, the lot of you. Get out of my sight until you have some decent information; make contact with the Spymaster if you have to. And _find my grandson._ I want Seung-gil Lee's report by the end of the week.”

“Pieces are moving rapidly. We're so close to the end now, I can't afford for anything to come unravelled.”

Christophe Giacometti rolled his eyes, sighing as his pet eased the tension in his shoulders with talented, experienced hands. As his sire paced the small living space, the bells of St Peter's cathedral tolled the early hour, close enough to render speech impossible for a few moments. When he could hear again, the Swiss reached for Phitchit's hand, drawing him into his lap and twisting his fingers through the Thai's silky hair.

“Feiyan is suspicious” Celestino added, as the echoing chorus of bells across the city faded.

“Of course she is. They all are. But they have no evidence. She'll have to reach out to Yuri...”

“And he'll have some perfect patsy to throw under the bus. Yuri's not my concern, he's been in this longer than even _you_ have.”

“You're worried about what Seung-gil might tell her? He's committed, I assure you. We wouldn't have brought him in if we couldn't trust him.”

Celestino turned and stood facing his eldest child. “You took a big risk with him. I supported the move at the time, but now he's disappeared...”

“He hasn't _disappeared_ ” Giacometti sighed, the weight of his pet in his lap making him long for the privacy of the nearby bedroom. He wanted his sire to leave him alone, let him relax and trust that he knew what he was doing. Being kept right under his nose in Rome was a particularly cruel torture, and the older vampire knew it. “He's doing exactly what he's supposed to be; staying low, being blameless and making sure Yuri's assets are tidied up. _Trust me_ , padre, we have everything in hand.”

Celestino stood up and gave his child a glare as he headed for the door. “Too much is on the line to just _trust_ you. If anything goes wrong, we stand to lose _everything._ ”

“You do your job, and keep Viktor in line. I'll do mine. And don't worry about Seung-gil... I'm sure Yuri and Mila have already reached out to him. Once I get back to America, I'll touch base with all of them.”

Grumbling, Celestino slammed out of the apartment, and Christophe deliberately took a series of slow, deep breaths, closing his eyes as the stress and tension from his sire drained out of the room. Phitchit let him recover for a few minutes, then as the vampire stopped forcing air into his lungs and relaxed, the Thai slid off his lap and knelt between his thighs, running his hands over the fabric of his suit pants. Growling happily at the touch of his favourite human, Giacometti looked down at his pet with a half smile.

“Do you miss America?” he asked in Thai, cupping Phitchit's jaw lightly.

“I miss the people we knew” his pet admitted, slowly stripping away the constrictive fabric and resting his head against his owner's frozen, tanned skin.

“Would you like to see some of them again? Yuri, and Mila?”

“No... but I miss Otabek and the twins.”

Christophe smiled and guided his pet's plush lips into his lap, sighing as he felt eager, wet heat wrap around his half hard length. Sinking his hands into Phitchit's hair, he let his pet set the pace, trusting him to know exactly what his owner wanted and needed.

“Then I think it's time we went home” he murmured, moaning as he felt the Thai smile around him.

Running his fingers through Otabek's hair, Yuri rested his phone on his chest and stared up at the canopy of their huge four poster bed. The rhythmic breathing of the sleeping nephilim lying in his arms mingled with the warmth from his blood and the pleasure of their love making, leaving the blonde calm and satisfied. Not a mood he wanted shattered by a message from the Council of Elders, yet here it was.

Reading the message again, he sighed and disentangled himself from his lover, wrapping a silk dressing gown around his slender frame and padding into his office. Curling up in the leather chair, he fired up the laptop and linked to the twins, smiling as the call connected him to Antoine's half awake, rumpled frown.

“What time is it there?”

“Midday” the Frenchman yawned, hauling himself out of bed. The camera bobbed and blurred as he made his way to the connecting office, then the angle changed as the call was transferred to his PC.

“I've sent you an email. I need the intel as top priority.”

Antoine frowned at the message, and then stared at the blonde. “This is about... what do you want me to return, exactly?”

“The truth. Throw the whole thing open, give them all the information she's asked for.”

“A-and the name of the instigator?”

“Dimitri, of course. After all, we have the name of his agent in the Bratva, who organised the massacre and the fire.” Yuri smiled grimly, and leaned back on his chair. “You'd better send Sergei my condolences for the untimely death of his nephew.”

“Mikhail Antonovich is still alive” Antoine pointed out, “we kept his financials under wraps and continued paying him through Dimitri's cloned accounts, he's clueless as to what actually happened, only that he was involved in organising the teams and setting the fire at the dacha.”

“Good, he'll be a font of carefully curated information under torture. Make sure the evidence of his link to Dimitri isn't _too_ easy to find.”

Antoine nodded, fingers already dancing on the keyboard. “And the other request?”

“Seung-gil should still be in America somewhere. I'd like a word with him before he reports to the Third Seat, if that can be arranged. ”

“You want the usual masquerade?”

Yuri tapped his claws on the desk, gazing through the door at the peacefully sleeping nephilim. “Yes... Otabek's developing quite a temper, and would probably be keen to tear his arms off for past indiscretions. Lets avoid putting them in the same room for now. Let Seung-gil know the Spymaster wants to speak with him, and set up a meeting in New York.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's coming back... O_o


	4. Chapter 4

Glaring at the vampire sprawled on the couch under a book, Michele stalked into the kitchen and dug in the fridge for mince and breadcrumbs. Otabek had begged for proper meatballs, since it was the Italian's turn to cook. Shooting another look at the freeloader in the lounge, he began chopping onions more aggressively than necessary. Yuri's _friend_ had been loafing around for over a week, and showed no sign of returning to his own place, despite it being in the same city. Worse, he was so _polite_ all the time; waiting for him to show his true colours was giving the violet eyed twin a headache.

Noticing Michele crashing around in the kitchen, Emil closed his book and wandered to the doorway, deliberately making noise as he moved to telegraph his presence. In the two weeks he'd been guesting at the house, the highly strung Italian had gone from hiding whenever the vampire was around, to throwing him looks of suspicion and dislike. The last two days had been marked by developing irritation at his continued presence; with a bit more of a push, he might manage actual conversation.

“Need a hand with that?”

“Vaffanculo, testa di cazzo” came the snarled reply, and Emil bit back a smile. He didn't speak Italian particularly well, but he'd been around enough bars in New York to know what being told to fuck off sounded like.

“Alright then. I'll be on the couch if you change your mind.”

Growling, the Italian stared at him as he made his way back to his book. “Why are you still here?” he demanded, slamming the fridge door. Emil paused, considering his answer, then turned and gave him a smile.

“Keeping you all company while you settle in?”

“ _Why?_ What do you _want_ from us?”

“I don't _want_ anything. It's been decades since I last had decent company, and centuries since I saw Yuri. I'm enjoying being sociable... and I was hoping to get to know you and Otabek a bit better.” Watching the disbelief play over the human's face, he frowned. “You don't believe me.”

“Your kind never does anything without at least two reasons... and those reasons _always_ hurt people” came the reply as Michele folded his arms across his chest defensively.

“I'm sorry... I know you've had... bad experiences with vampires...” Watching the Italian's expression close down instantly, Emil raised his hands in a gesture of apology.

“Why do you care about getting to know Otabek and me? We're just humans.”

Emil choked at the word 'human' and raised an eyebrow. “Well... ah. Otabek's important to Yuri, so I thought I should get to know him... and you... well, you seem nice. And you know what I am, so I don't have to pretend around you...”

“Vampires disgust me” Michele said, his voice ice cold. “You're just another monster, in a house full of monsters. If you're hanging around because you think I'm a spare... if you're looking for a _pet_... you can forget it!”

“What?? No! No fucking way!” Emil shook his head violently, shuddering. “I hate that shit! It's vile, and cruel... it's why I won't let most vampires anywhere near my territory!” His reaction made the Italian take a step back, surprised at the vehemence in his voice. Seeing he'd caused alarm, Emil carefully put his hands in his pockets to reduce his threat level and backed away farther into the main room, giving Michele space. “Please don't think I'm like... like any of the others you've met. I... I don't want you to be afraid of me, or hate me. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you...”

“Do you really mean that?” Michele's voice was soft, and Emil smiled as he nodded. “Good” the Italian said, “then prove it. You _being here_ hurts me... so get the fuck out of this house, and don't come back.”

Yuri stretched out on the bed, murmuring in protest as Otabek paused from massaging his shoulders. The nephilim cocked his head to one side as he felt Emil's bubbly aura recede into the distance.

“Did Emil say he was leaving?”

“Mmm... not to me... don't stop...”

Otabek returned to working on the blonde's shoulders, leaning his weight into the muscles. “He just walked out... his aura felt upset about something.”

“Mmm...” Yuri went quiet for a few minutes, then blinked and sighed. “Michele kicked him out. He's giving him some space.”

“I don't like you encouraging him over Mickey” Otabek protested, pausing his massage again and getting an irritated grunt from the vampire. “He's been badly traumatised, the last thing he needs is more vampires manipulating him.”

“Well, you could ask Mila to send him to therapy, but he'd probably find it a bit redundant since he couldn't tell them what actually happened to him.”

“I'm _trying_ to talk to him...”

“You're not exactly an ideal audience, my love. You're blissfully happy with your vampire owner, remember?”

“Fuck you, you don't own me” Otabek said, running his fingers up into Yuri's hair and getting a murmur of pleasure in return. Bending over him, he held the blonde's head against the pillows and licked a slow circle over his clavicle, following the line of muscle up to his ear before nipping the earlobe and making his lover moan out loud.

“N-no... I don't... but _he_ doesn't know that. He doesn't even know what y-you _are_... how do you know he won't see you as a monster too? He _is_ Catholic after all... and you're... well, not an angel any m-more...”

Growling at Yuri's baiting, Otabek let his weight rest on the slender vampire's back, grazing his teeth over his shoulder as he dragged his nails down the length of his spine, sinking them into the muscle of his thigh. The noise Yuri made was muffled by the pillows, but his aura flared with lust as the nephilim manhandled him.

Over the last month, he'd become more used to Otabek's touches, and now Yuri welcomed scratching and biting as much as he enjoyed kisses and soft stroking. Nothing the nephilim did could break his skin or bruise him, but the sensations it produced were desperately arousing, and he purred happily, spreading his legs and arching off the bed against Otabek's hand.

“Michele needs safety, and help. Not another vampire trying to get his teeth into him” Otabek admonished, trying to ignore the blonde's wanton writhing as he dipped his fingers between pale cheeks and stroked his lover's entrance, feeling the slick wetness he'd already left there once tonight. They'd devolved into massage and talking instead of showering, and the thought of plunging back into his dripping lover made him shiver with lust.

“What Michele needs is a p-protector” Yuri countered, mewling as Otabek slid his fingers inside him, pushing back against the intruding, talented digits. “H-he refuses to leave his s-sister... so he's a-at risk... with no-one to look after him or c-claim him as theirs, there will always be s-some v-vampire looking to a-abuse him... ahhhh _fuck...”_ his voice trailed off into a breathy moan as Otabek's patience ran out and he pushed the blonde's legs apart properly, drawing his hips into his lap and thrusting into him to the hilt with a cry of bliss. Holding the back of the blonde's neck to keep him pressed against the pillows, he gripped Yuri's hip with his free hand and pulled out almost to the tip, then hilted himself again, harder than the first time. Within minutes he was pounding into him, muttering oaths as he coiled over the slender vampire.

Beneath him, Yuri floated on the pleasure his nephilim was hammering into his body, his claws sinking into the mattress as he let Otabek hold him down. Giving his lover this much control over his flesh had long been a fantasy for the blonde, but only since the bond had he truly been able to experience accepting this kind of pleasure.

At first, being unable to block the physical sensations had been horrifying for him and he'd recoiled, unwilling to allow even the most gentle contact from the Kazakh. Time and patience had bridged the gap between them, and Yuri had learned to manage his fear and enjoy the attentions of his lover.

Not belonging to the vampire or being afraid of him had revealed Otabek's skills as a naturally dominant and talented top, and he delighted in proving pleasure to the blonde. Thrusting deep into his vampiric lover, he found the angle he wanted and gripped Yuri's hips with both hands, listening to the blonde's escalating moans and cries as he relentlessly drove him towards orgasm. As the motion of Yuri's hips against him stuttered and he buried his face in the pillow, Otabek arched backwards and let the shuddering inside the blonde carry him over the edge, filling him again with the heat of his release.

While Otabek hunched over his lover's back, the blonde reached down to his hips and drew the nephilim's hand to his lips, licking his lover's pulse with his ice cold tongue. Groaning, the nephilim murmured his need against his lover's spine, pressing his wrist against his mouth. As Yuri let his long fangs slide between the tendons of his wrist, the nephilim screamed and shuddered, the deeper climax from the bite making his body clench around his lover for long minutes before he collapsed and rolled to the side, gasping.

“I'm a mess” Yuri murmured, licking hot, dark blood from his lips and trailing his fingers through the sticky release leaking down his thighs. “I should make you clean me up.”

Otabek murmured something in Kazakh, then shook off some of the post orgasmic stupor, pulling his lover into his arms. “You're beautiful” he growled, “ _especially_ when you're soaked and dripping.”

“Pervert” Yuri purred, twisting so he could tuck his head against Otabek's chest, pushing his lover onto his back and resting against him with a happy sigh. “You just like marking me as yours.”

“Damn right” the nephilim smiled, kissing his lover's scalp and inhaling the scent of honey and roses that had always been the smell of the blonde for him. “You're mine... now and forever... in this world, and the next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting a bit kinky, but what do you expect from a demonic nephilim and a vampire??


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: references to torture, trauma, abuse, PTSD. Descriptions of PTSD recovery. Implied PTSD.

Flickering candles lit the ballroom, throwing shadows across the high ceiling and ornately carved sconces. The tiny flames were in a half circle in the centre of the massive dance floor, and he stood inside it, where he'd been ordered to wait. Rendered effectively blind to the room outside the pool of light, Seung-gil Lee narrowed his eyes against the glare, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around his chest. It wouldn't be a good idea to show weakness in front of the Spymaster of the Council.

Movement in the air nearby suggested a door had opened, and someone was moving through the room. No heartbeat or smell of blood; this was either an agent, or the creature itself. Forcing himself to avoid tracking the invisible newcomer, he stood silent and still, his chin raised and his expression composed. To the casual observer, he looked relaxed and disinterested, his elegant, beautiful face calm and patient.

Yuri studied the Korean as he entered the room, moving to a position opposite him and sitting cross legged on the floor. Familiar with some of the vampire's abilities, he knew the candlelight was completely blinding him; Seung-gil had better vision in total darkness than most vampires had in full electric light, but it left him vulnerable in well lit areas. Lowering the angle his voice was coming from would further throw the Korean off; Yuri wanted him as close to panicking as he could get him without making him do something foolish.

The blonde wasn't taking chances; he was dressed in long black robes and a deep cowl, with a veil across his face and his hair tied back out of the way. Even if the vampire he was questioning broke protocol and tried to capture or kill him, there was little chance he'd recognise Yuri before the blonde could escape. When he spoke, he used English and his voice was pitched an octave higher than normal, effecting a feminine sound.

“Lee Seung-gil, child of Ching Shih, who is child of Zhao Feiyan, Third Seat of the Council of Elders. You stand before the Spymaster of the Council to be questioned over your involvement in the death of Yakov, Second Seat of the Council of Elders.”

Seung-gil's expression tightened a little, but otherwise he remained still and composed. Unwilling to give anything he wasn't directly asked for, he settled for merely correcting his lineage. “I am Seung-gil, who was once child of Ching Shih, but I no longer have the right to that title.” He knew the Spymaster would be aware of his banishment from the court of his sire; making him admit it was just a power play. Irrelevant and a little petty.

The blonde smiled at the correction, amused at the pride and arrogance the Korean still carried despite the acknowledgement of his disgrace. “You were most recently a member of a coven belonging to Viktor, child of Yakov, and lived in the American state of Alaska.”

“That is correct.”

“Are you aware that Viktor has taken the position of Second Seat on the Council of Elders, following the deaths of Yakov and his heir, Dimitri?”

“I am aware.”

“What was your position in the coven?”

“I managed armaments and munitions control. I also had responsibility for the coven's sustenance and livestock requirements.”

“Were you aware of the plot to murder Yakov?”

Not a flicker, not a movement on that exquisite face. “I have no knowledge of what you are asking.”

 _Resorting to sophism in case the Spymaster can detect explicit lies. Clever._ “Were you aware that the children of Siberia were planning to murder Yakov?”

“I have no knowledge of what you are asking.”

_Well, that was partly true. He'd been very careful to keep himself in the dark on the specifics, focusing instead on arranging untraceable weapons for the Bratva and ensuring the human investigations at the dacha went smoothly. The actual specifics of the plan had always been solely in Yuri's own hands._

“You are lying.”

The declaration irked the Korean; Seung-gil knew nothing in his face or body had given anything away. Black, snakelike eyes narrowed further and his lip curled. _Children of Siberia..._ that was a large pool of vampires to accuse. The Spymaster was revealing nothing.

“I am not lying.”

Yuri rose from the floor and crossed to the door, amused at the sneer on Seung-gil's face.

“You will be taken for further questioning” he intoned, and two of his retainers stepped up to the vampire, gripping Seung-gil's arm and leading him away from the candlelight. The Korean sneered again, unimpressed with the display of force or the prospect of _further_ questioning. Pain held no fear for him.

“Torture? Really?”

Georgi's voice was tinny from the encrypted line, and Yuri shrugged as he changed his clothes, slipping back into his usual lace and velvet with a sigh of relief.

“He's looking forward to it, it would be mean not to. I've heard he likes to laugh at the poor methods used, and critique the techniques.”

“Well, I suppose several centuries doing it for a living makes him the expert” there was a splashing sound, and Yuri raised an eyebrow.

“Georgi, are you in the _bath_?”

“It's about the only time I get any peace at the moment” the brunette sighed. “Viktor's on me constantly, either boasting about Yakov or fuming about you. The sooner we leave Rome and he goes back to his dacha, the better.”

“Dimitri's dacha” Yuri corrected, and Georgi made a disgusted noise. “How's he enjoying the Second Seat?”

“Seems like he's restraining himself from telling the Council what to do at the moment. Celestino's keeping him in hand.”

Sighing, Yuri opened a warm bottle of blood and sat on the hotel room bed. The lightless, basement room felt empty without his nephilim waiting for him, but he couldn't risk putting Otabek anywhere near Seung-gil. It would mean instantly revealing himself as Spymaster, for one thing, and he also didn't trust his lover not to immediately initiate violence at the sight of the Korean. Since the bond, the nephilim's temper had become shorter just as Yuri had discovered more patience than he'd ever known. The pair were balancing each other out; it was a little alarming, as if he was losing parts of his personality and gaining new things he didn't recognise.

“I'll stay until they've finished with Seung-gil, then turn him loose. He'll definitely report that he's been interrogated; keep your ears open and make sure Viktor doesn't get too excited. Speaking of my wonderful sire; Is he sticking to the script?”

“He's already claimed ignorance to the Council, and is happily encouraging their theory that Dimitri was behind the attack on the dacha, expecting to get out alive and take Yakov's place. Apparently they found evidence that he was in control of the Bratva members who set the fire?”

“Ah good. I was wondering how long that would take.”

“Yuri... Viktor's furious with you, but he won't tell me why. What did you _do?”_

“Mmm. I told him America was off limits from now on, and Otabek humiliated him quite badly.”

_“How??”_

“Turns out a dark nephilim is a _lot_ more powerful than a vampire sorcerer” Yuri chuckled, stretching out on his bed. “None of us were expecting that.”

“Y-you're going to use Otabek as a weapon against Viktor, aren't you?” Georgi sounded resigned, and Yuri raised an eyebrow at the bitterness he could hear in his uncle's voice.

“Not unless Viktor comes at me first” the blonde said, soothingly. “As long as he stays half a world away from me and doesn't interfere with my schemes, there's nothing to fight over. Watching Otabek brush aside his vaunted magic like cobwebs was incredibly cathartic for me... I'm happy to co-exist, as long as Viktor behaves.”

Stacking more books in plastic bags, Otabek fixed Michele with a glare as the Italian entered the lounge. Eyeing the smaller man, the twin recognised the signs of a bad mood and bit his lip, hoping he wouldn't get the brunt of it. Otabek could be very intimidating when he was angry; the last time they'd rowed, Michele had ended up avoiding him for two days before the Kazakh apologised.

Now, he was looking fierce and irritated, and the books were being punished. He filled the three bags violently, then threw them on the couch beside the Italian. Scribbling on a piece of paper, he thrust the address at Michele and gave him a steely look.

“Call a taxi and deliver these back to Emil. He texted and asked if someone could bring them to him, since he's decided he's not welcome here at the moment.”

“Why me??” Michele put his hands behind his back, refusing to take the piece of paper. “Why can't you...”

Otabek's expression hardened and the Italian gulped, taking a step back. “Because _you_ kicked him out, so you can take his stuff to him.”

“Me? I didn't do anything...”

“You two had a row, you told him to get out, he left. How is that not your doing?”

“H-he... he didn't leave because of me. Why would he?? I'm... I'm just a human, I can't... he wouldn't...”

Raising his eyebrows, Otabek pushed the piece of paper in front of Michele's face until the twin took it to avoid being poked in the nose. “Deliver. The. Books” he instructed, and the Italian pulled a face but did as he was told.

The taxi was late, and when they arrived Michele begged the driver to wait for him while he dashed up the steps to the town house, clutching the bags to protect the books from the rain. Banging on the door, he watched the driver looking at his phone, and fretted.

“Mickey?”

Looking up, he saw a third floor window had opened and Emil was leaning out, staring at him in surprise.

“Otabek made me bring your books over” Michele waved the bags at him, and then put them beside the door. “I'll leave them here, my taxi's waiting.”

“Your taxi's leaving” Emil corrected, and Michele spun with a curse, watching the car pull away down the road. “I warned you they weren't reliable here” the vampire added, watching the twin's shoulders slump. “Don't worry... I'll wait for you to call another one and go before I come get the bags.”

“I... I don't have a phone” Michele said, leaning on the door in defeat.

“You don't... OK. Use mine” Emil replied, pulling the window closed and making his way downstairs. Pulling open the front door, he gave Michele a gentle smile. “Come in” the vampire picked up the bags and headed through to the kitchen, gesturing behind him. “Leave the door open, if you want.”

Irritated, the Italian kicked the door shut, giving it a grimace. “Stop treating me like I'm made of glass” he growled, padding into the kitchen. “You talk to me like you're expecting me to break, it drives me nuts.”

Setting the books aside, Emil dug his phone out of a drawer and unlocked it, pushing it across the table to the human. Michele ignored it, staring around at the kitchen in amazement. Extended into a conservatory to enhance the natural light, the room included dozens of lush, green leafy plants and massive windows on the back, giving it a wide open feeling. The walls not full of cooking equipment and Aga stove were covered in recipe books.

An expensive steam espresso machine sat on the counter, and Emil fetched ground beans from the fridge as Michele stared at the room. “Coffee? It's from the Italian deli in town, it's good.”

“W-wha... I thought you didn't agree with keeping humans?”

Confused, Emil paused and stared at the Italian. “My English isn't amazing, but I'm sure I didn't offer you a human” he said, as they stared at each other in bafflement.

“You have coffee... food... you keep humans here...” Michele said, and Emil laughed in understanding.

“No, no. No! The food is for me” he smiled, busying himself with making coffee. “I don't have anyone else living here.”

“Y-you eat food... gross” Michele pulled a face, remembering Giacometti's Roman style binges and subsequent purges, and Emil shook his head in understanding.

“Not like that” he said, grabbing tiny porcelain cups and eyeing the human. “I assume you don't like American style coffee?”

“N-no...”

“Me either” Emil smiled, and set a steaming espresso in front of the Italian, working on his own as he spoke. “I guess I'm a bit weird for a vampire... I never lost the ability to eat or drink. I mean, it doesn't get rid of the... the hunger... but it's something I enjoy. My body just treats it like a lesser form of fuel, I suppose.”

Setting out bowls of white and brown sugar, Emil hopped up onto a stool and passed a spoon across to the confused Italian. Michele stared at him as the vampire calmly added brown sugar to his espresso and then rested his chin on his hands, seemingly fascinated with the swirl on the surface of the drink.

“You should have time for that before your taxi gets here” the vampire added, and Michele flinched.

“Oh... I... I didn't call it yet...”

“That's OK. I'm not in a rush to get rid of you” Emil smiled, and the human glared down at his drink, biting his lip. Watching him, the vampire fought back the urge to fill the silence and concentrated on his own coffee.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“I was rude to you... Otabek said you left because... because I told you to.”

Emil shrugged, sipping his drink. The Italian realised he was staring and dropped his eyes again.

“I was in the way” the vampire said, twisting his cup between his fingers. “You just told me what you needed, that's all.”

“ _Why do you care about what I need”_ Michele nearly shouted, gripping the top of the table. Realising he was overreacting, he lowered his voice with a wince. “What _difference_ does it make to you? Why are you always so... so _kind_?!”

“Hmm. I suppose it's down to how I was made” Emil slipped off the stool and gestured the human through to the next room, stretching himself onto one of the several comfy couches and indicating Michele could sit wherever he liked. Pausing for a moment, the Italian perched on the end of Emil's seat and watched the vampire cautiously as he finished his coffee, turning the delicate cup in his hands as he talked.

“There's a theory: we become what we're made to be” Emil said, biting back a smile as Michele sat near his feet. “That the way we die, and the first few hundred years of our lives shape our personalities, and our abilities. Going from some of the extremes I've seen, I think there's truth in it. In my case, I was lucky... I had a gentle death, and my first century wasn't much different that my last years as a human. I was cared for and loved, and I spent most of my time around people. It made a difference, I think.”

Gazing at the paintings filling the lounge, Michele chewed the inside of his lip, trapped between the urge to learn more about the vampire and the nearly overwhelming need to keep him at arms length, to see him only as a dangerous monster. Despite himself, he was drawn to the creature sitting beside him; his calm nature and consistent gentle behaviour soothing.

He'd hated watching Otabek and Kenjirou being used and abused at the coven house, but at the same time, he'd envied the intensity of the relationships he saw in Yuuri, Phichit and Sara. Unable to understand the emotional side of what his sister was experiencing, he'd nevertheless adjusted to the physical reality being Giacometti's pet. He was ashamed to admit that he missed some aspects of having a vampiric lover. The creatures were intoxicating in so many ways, and even though he'd suffered mistreatment in the end, there were parts of it he longed for, and hated himself for lusting after. Battling his conflicting thoughts, the Italian fell into silence, locked in his own head.

The vampire watched the emotions moving over the human's face, once again fighting the automatic inclination to fill the silence. Since the first moment he'd seen Michele, he had recognised the signs of abuse and pain and had to stifle his instinct to try to help the traumatised twin, knowing that getting emotionally involved was a dangerous thing; Yuri had once teased that Emil fell in love faster than an amorous stallion, and he had been right.

The desire to help this human's pain came at a cost; the more time he spent around Michele, the more likely it was he would fall for him... with all the difficulties that would bring. Especially if it wasn't reciprocated, which seemed the most likely outcome given everything the human had been through at the hands of vampires.

After nearly five minutes of awkward silence, Michele lost the battle with himself and drank his cooling coffee, turning to look properly at Emil. “You knew some of the others, right? At the coven?”

“Besides Yuri? Not really... I only met Giacometti once.”

“Guang Hong and L-Leo?”

“Hmm... Guang Hong, no. Leo... Yuri and I have a long history with Leo.”

Nodding, Michele twisted on the couch and leaned against the back, pulling his knees up protectively to his stomach. “I heard Yuri saying something similar to Otabek. Will you... will you tell me about him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for another history lesson <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: descriptions of injury, references to colonisation
> 
> Leo and Yuri have a long history of hating each other...

_Tenochtitlan (Mexico City),1549_

Green eyes gleamed in the darkness of the alley as the whore paraded her wares to the drunken Spaniards wandering the area. Waiting for the moment the woman stepped too close, into range of long claws and sharp fangs, Yuri was growing impatient, his hunger driving him to take risks with his kills.

A man stepped up to the whore and in moments she had ducked into the alley with him, pulling him against her and resting her back to the wall. Hitching her skirts, she wrapped a leg around his waist as he buried his face in her neck. Silently, the hunter counted his blessings and braced for his attack; two humans for the price of one, he might stand a chance of feeling satiated this night.

The cry of the woman alerted the hunter to his mistake, but he was already launching himself across the alley onto the man's back and couldn't pull out of the leap in time. Striking his intended prey full force, he felt the chilled skin under his hands and cursed as the creature he'd mistaken for a human snarled in rage at being attacked.

Attempting to jump away from the unknown vampire, the blonde was astonished to find himself grappled as the vampire dropped his meal and reached for his assailant. An unmoveable hand locked itself around Yuri's throat and then he was dangling, inches away from the other vampire's furious brown eyes and long, bloody fangs. Trying to break the grip was useless, and Yuri struggled frantically, hissing his rage and panic.

“ _What the fuck”_ the vampire spoke Spanish, and his voice was thick with anger. Yuri spat defiance at him and scrabbled with his claws, unable to draw enough breath to speak. Real fear overtook the blonde as the enemy gripped his arm below the shoulder and _pulled_ , stretching the limb away from his body and dislocating the joint. Agony flared and was instantly shut down by the blonde's ability, and he snarled rage again.

Noticing the lack of reaction to pain, the unknown vampire put his head to the side, curiosity overtaking rage. Observing the terror in the bright green eyes, he curled his lip and hurled the tiny blonde across the alley. The impact with the wall shattered every bone in Yuri's back and torso, and he crumpled like paper as the stones behind him shuddered and fragmented, puffs of dust falling around his face.

Forcing his body to heal as fast as possible despite his hunger, Yuri glared up at the approaching vampire and hissed at him, exposing long fangs in a last gesture of defiance before the stranger finished him off. Amused by the cat-like behaviour, the unknown vampire knelt in front of the blonde and tilted his chin, watching as his shoulders snapped back into place and the broken bones of his neck and spine began to heal.

“A new _vampiro_ appears” he murmured, pushing Yuri's hair out of his eyes. The strength in his fingers was horrifying; even though the blonde could feel he was trying to be gentle, the touch of his hand sent a dull ache through the blonde's skull. “What are you doing in my city, vampire?”

“Fuck you” Yuri hissed, “you're in _my_ territory.”

“Ridiculous. I was born in the desert valleys, and born again in this city. This place is _mine_ ” the enemy vampire's voice was hard, and Yuri curled his lip.

“Born again... you're so young you're still warm...”

“Oh? _That's_ why you attacked me... you thought I was human? Hmm... an embarrassing mistake for you. A painful one, too.”

Standing up, the unknown vampire folded his arms across his chest and poked Yuri with a toe, crushing him against the wall effortlessly and making his bones creak again. “My name is Leo Cortez” he said, pinning Yuri to the ground with his foot. “New Spain is mine... if I see you here again, I'll tear you to pieces. Understand?"

When Emil finally responded to Yuri's irritated call, the blonde had reached the settlement near the Rio Grande and was settling in amongst the native people, traders, slavers and dregs of the population spilling over the border. When he heard the Varangian's soft tones in his ear, he dropped from his horse and staked it out, staring out over the river and rubbing the animal's cooling flanks as they talked.

“What's the matter? Where are you, you feel really distant.”

His friend's ability to speak and be heard by anyone he knew well had always impressed Yuri, similar as it was to his own skills. Emil's range seemed to be based entirely on how much he liked the other person, and he could hear his name spoken by those he cared for if they called for him, no matter where he was. Since leaving Tenochtitlan, Yuri had been calling to him twice a day, murmuring his name as he rode north and waiting for the other vampire to initiate contact.

“What took you so fucking long? I've been trying to reach you for days.”

“I was asleep.”

Yuri winced. “Ah fuck... I'm sorry. Who did you lose?”

“Armando died last year. He was nearly sixty though, it wasn't a surprise.”

Biting his lip, Yuri leaned against his horse. Immediately feeling guilty for dragging his friend out of the trace-like sleep Emil descended into for decades following the loss of a human lover; nevertheless he was the only one he could turn to for help with the problem in Tenochtitlan.

“How long do you need before you can get to New Spain? I've run into some trouble here that I can't deal with on my own.”

“What kind of trouble?”

Snarling, Yuri absently rubbed his shoulder at the memory of the fight.

“A jumped up little newborn who thinks the Spanish colonies belong to him. He's barely even cold, but he threw me around like a rag doll.”

When Emil's voice replied, he sounded more alert, and much more annoyed. Yuri winced again; using his friend's extreme territoriality to motivate him was cruel, given his current grief. Still, the threat of Leo Cortez couldn't be ignored; he was already far too powerful; given a few more decades to mature and grow he could become a dangerous force on the continent.

“Give me a year to wake up properly, then I'll come south. Where shall I meet you?”

“He's got a decent network set up already and they're briefed to watch for me, so I need to get out of the area. There's a settlement not far from here, called Tuscon; mostly Hohokam natives, but they're known to trade relatively regularly so I should be able to blend in with the white settlers. I'll lurk until you get here.”

Emil arrived in 1552, apologising profusely for being so late and getting an unusually mild tongue lashing in return. The taller vampire looked _ill,_ still suffering the depth of grief that usually rendered him immobile and unconscious for decades after the end of a relationship. Forcing himself out of his stupor to answer Yuri's call had taken a physical toll on him, and the blonde felt guilty every time he looked at the unhealthy pallor and shivering limbs of his oldest friend.

They journeyed cautiously back to New Spain, tapping in to the blonde's contacts as they made their way south. By the time they reached Tenochtitlan, Leo had been traced to a wealthy Spanish family who were disguising the vampire as their distant relative. Having access to the elite of the city and the leaders of the Spanish military, their enemy had created a powerful base of operations, and Yuri's spies were keeping close tabs on him.

The gathering was primarily Spanish aristocracy; wealthy and titled, arrogant in their conquest of the Mexica people and their power over their futures on the new continent. Yuri stalked through it like an exotic sliver of light, pale skin and yellow hair drawing lust filled and covetous glances from the dark haired humans that filled the house.

The two Varangians had been hiding in the city for weeks, working out how to get the jump on the Latino. Noticing his apparent regard for the humans in his circle, Yuri suspected that he would restrain his monstrous strength if it would put them at risk, so an initial contact at a gathering would be ideal. Social opportunities had lacked the location they wanted, but finally an event near the edge of the city had been announced, and they'd laid their plans.

Prowling through the party, Yuri sought his target without hesitation. His role in this ambush was to draw the eyes of the humans, and get Leo to react to his presence. Operating under the assumption that Leo would leave the gathering rather than fight in front of humans, they'd set up a trap a mile into the nearby scrubland. Emil's job was to herd Leo in that direction, if Yuri failed to bait him there just by being under his nose.

Catching sight of the Latino, Yuri shifted direction and insinuated himself with a group of humans nearby. Soon enough, the comments about his hair and questions about his origins caught the attention of the other vampire, and Yuri curled his lip as Leo's expression closed down with fury at the sight of the blonde. Excusing himself from his group, the Latino crossed the distance between them and made a polite comment, taking hold of Yuri's elbow hard enough to make the joint ache.

“My dear old friend” he snarled, forcing an amicable smile on his face. “I didn't expect to see you here!” He tugged Yuri's arm, pulling him out of the group and forcing the blonde to shut down the pain responses from that limb as the light motion wrenched his shoulder. Nodding and smiling, Yuri let himself be dragged to the side of the room, and gave Leo a disinterested look.

“You... I warned you what would happen if you trespassed again” Leo growled, looming over the blonde as he gripped his elbow. Aware that the joint was starting to fracture under the pressure, Yuri carefully shut down the nerves to his entire arm, refusing to give any indication of pain.

“I obviously didn't make things clear last time we met” Yuri smirked, “ _You_ are in _my_ territory, Cortez. I've been on these shores since the turn of the millennium. America is _mine.”_ He twisted his arm and forced the joint to dislocate under Leo's hand, making the Latino let go at the unexpected feel of the suddenly useless limb, disgusted at the damage the blonde had just inflicted upon himself. Pressing himself against the taller vampire for a moment, Yuri hissed in his ear “if you want to claim territory here, I might just throw you a few hectares of desert. _If_ you beg for it.” Then he was gone, a streak of blonde dashing out of the main door faster than the human eye could follow. With a low growl, Leo clenched his fists and followed him.

The Latino was stronger, but Yuri was faster and the blonde was forced to reign in his speed or risk losing his pursuit as he covered the distance to the scrubland. To the east, Emil was ahead of them, readying the ambush as Yuri led the snarling, swearing vampire into the trap. Reaching the cut off point, Yuri threw himself to the ground as the two groups of armed men opened fire on their target. The hills echoed to the sounds of the lines of harquebus, and Yuri rolled aside as Leo took over a dozen musket balls to the chest and torso, the impact making him shudder and drop to one knee.

Not giving the Latino a chance to recover or heal, Emil slammed into him from the side and pinned him down as Yuri collected a weapon from the men and advanced on the stunned vampire. Huge dark eyes moved over the blonde and settled on the Toledo steel sword in his hand, and Leo curled his lip defiantly.

“You think you can kill me with the steel of my own people?” he growled, and in answer, Yuri swung the sword in an arch, the edge of the blade slamming into the Latino's throat.

As it hit Leo's skin, the steel shattered like glass. Yuri fell back, clutching the useless hilt as Leo flexed his shoulders and Emil was thrown off, rendered nearly weightless by the enemy vampire's immense strength. Picking himself up off the ground, Leo dragged the remains of his shirt and jacket from his body and Yuri realised the projectiles fired into him had failed to breach the surface of his skin, flattening into tiny discs instead. Only the surprise of the impact had driven the vampire to his knees.

Emil shot a questioning glance at Yuri as the pair squared off against the angry Latino, and the blonde bared his teeth in a snarl. Realising that his diminutive friend was not in the mood to retreat, the older vampire made the decision for both of them, opting for survival. Grabbing Yuri, he threw him over his shoulder, ignoring the outraged screeching of the blonde, and took to his heels, trusting his speed to get them away from the unstoppable monster they'd managed to antagonise.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: reference to addiction, withdrawal, illness

The pain was waiting for him when he returned to consciousness as the sun dipped below the horizon. Worse than the previous night, it crawled through his insides and doubled him over as he tried to get out of bed. Writhing for a moment, he reached for the warmed bottle of blood and drank, draining it in the hope that the pain would recede once his hunger was satisfied.

Something inside him cramped at the presence of blood, and Yuri threw himself across the room, emptying his stomach into the sink. Running the water, he watched half a bottle of perfectly good human blood disappear down the drain, baffled by his body's rejection of its primary food source. Vampire's _couldn't_ get sick. It was impossible.

Raising his eyes to the mirror, he stared at himself in shock. His normally pale skin was almost white, and his eyes looked red, as if he'd been crying blood tears. The silver flecks in the bright green of his eyes were huge, much larger than they'd been before. Staring at them, he felt a surge of panic; those flecks were the physical sign of the bond he shared with Otabek... did that mean there was something wrong with his nephilim? Dreading the shivers of pain that using his ability while hungry would cause, he sat on the edge of the bath and threw his vision to the north, looking for his lover.

Otabek was in Yuri's lightless suite, and instantly the blonde could see he was very, very ill. The nephilim was curled up in a ball in the bed, the sheets around him drenched with sweat. His flesh was the same white as Yuri, and his body was shaking and shuddering as if he were gripped by a fever. Horrified at the sight, Yuri checked the rest of the house: Mila and Sara were out somewhere, and there was no sign of Mickey. Frantic, he forced air into his lungs and called for help.

Emil paused in his story and blinked, Yuri's voice cutting across his attention. Michele stared at him as he tilted his head to one side, clearly listening to something the human couldn't hear. He'd been in the middle of telling the story about how he and Yuri had met Leo, and Michele had been almost dozing to the soothing sound of his voice, curled up on the couch they were sharing. Now, the Italian tensed, disliking the demonstration of unknown vampiric powers.

“Yuri? What's the matter?”

When Emil spoke, his voice was soft and very quiet, more like a whisper. Michele couldn't hear the reply, only the tones of the vampire in the room with him. It was like listening to one half of a phone conversation.

“Sick? Wh... alright, alright, I'll go check on him. Is Mila... no, OK. I probab... alright. Yuri, it's OK... I'm going now. Save your strength.”

Focusing back on the human sat by his feet, Emil noticed the tense expression and raised his hand in a gesture of apology. “Sorry... Yuri needs me to go back to the house and check on Otabek. He said he's sick.”

“Sick? He was fine earlier... just really angry, as usual.”

“Angry?”

“He's been getting more and more irritable since Yuri left. I assumed he was pining.”

“Hmmm... maybe he was... but not in the way you think.” Emil rose slowly from the couch, deliberately restricting the speed of his movements to avoid scaring Michele. “Would you like a lift home?”

Michele had the skeleton keys to the house, so Emil unlocked the door to the suite rather than damaging it. Stepping inside, he winced and wrinkled his nose. The room stank of fear and pain, as well as something darker, more acrid. Indicating that Michele should wait outside, he searched the suite until he found the bedroom, and the Nephilim curled up on the bed.

“Yuri? I'm here... oh, you're watching. OK.”

Sitting beside Otabek, Emil held his hand a few inches above the twitching man's skin, feeling the heat radiating from him. The sheets were bathed in sweat, but he was shuddering as if he were freezing cold. The acrid smell was worse up close, and Emil noticed a yellow sheen on his bleached white skin. His pulse was so faint, the vampire could barely hear it.

“Yuri... you need to get back to Portland _now_ ” Emil said, shaking his head. “This is... he's sweating _sulphur,_ and he's throwing off so much heat... he's burning up from the inside. If you're sick too...”

Sat on the bed in his hotel room, Yuri looked at his phone as Emil spoke. “I can get a flight... but not 5am... I'll have to wait until tomorrow night, or I'll hit sun up before I land...”

“Get in a taxi” the other vampire said, firmly. “If I'm right and this is because of the distance between you... the strain on the bond... then as you get closer to him, his condition should improve. I can't risk moving him to you...”

“I'm already heading to the taxi rank” Yuri replied, shutting down his mental vision and grabbing his bag, ignoring anything that wasn't essential in his haste. “How could this happen? I've been here for five days, why did it only show up now?”

“Hmmm... I don't think it did. Mickey said Otabek's been really grumpy since you left, and getting worse by the day. I think he's been in pain ever since you left, but didn't want to make a fuss.”

“ _For fucks sakes..._ he should have told someone... I've been checking on him every day, he didn't say...”

“Less talk. Save your strength” Emil said, crossing to the door and looking for Michele. The human was standing in the hallways awkwardly, unsure if he should be eavesdropping or not.

“Mickey, could you please do me a favour?” Waiting for the human to nod, Emil smiled at him and indicated Otabek's room. “I want to make him a bit more comfortable. Could you find some cool water for him to drink? And some clean sheets for the bed?”

“Wh-what's wrong with him?”

“Hmmm... I can't really explain it, but it's because Yuri's so far away. He's on his way back, so hopefully Otabek should feel better soon.”

Staring at the vampire in bafflement, Michele frowned. “What are you _talking_ about... how could...”

“It... it's not my place to say” Emil shrugged, his expression wary. “Please don't ask me.” _If you do, I'll have no choice but to tell you... I'd rather you didn't find that out just yet..._

Biting his lip, Michele nodded and left to fetch Emil's supplies, and the vampire went back into the room. Turning on the lights, he carefully lifted Otabek off the bed and carried him into the bathroom, ignoring the heat that made his skin tingle on contact. In his feverish state, the nephilim had stripped down to his boxers to try and cool off, so Emil simply put him in the shower and turned the water on, using the lukewarm spray to get some of the sulphur off his skin.

“H-he looks awful.”

“Ah, the sheets, thank you.”

“I'll do this... you focus on him” Michele said, waving Emil's hands away from the clean linen. “How long before Yuri gets back?”

“He's in a taxi... five or six hours, I expect.”

“Flying's quicker.”

“Mmm. Not for a vampire... Yuri wouldn't make it back in time tonight. At least the taxi will get him in before dawn.”

“OK... bed's done. What next?”

“Now we try and keep him cool, and see if my theory is right.”

By the time Yuri was two hours away, Otabek had recovered enough to open his eyes, and take sips of water from the bottle Emil held for him. The sulphuric tinge had gone from his sweat, and his temperature had come down to approaching human normal. His skin was still painfully white; he looked like he'd been bled dry. Once he had stopped sweating, Emil lifted him out of the tub and carried him to the bed, helping him curl up on the clean sheets. Sitting beside him, the vampire pushed his hair out of his eyes and listened to his pulse, still weak and thready but getting stronger all the time.

“When did the pain start?”

“A-after Yuri left... a while after he got on the plane to New York.”

“After he put physical distance between you.”

“Y-yes... it just felt like flu... like my m-muscles were aching, and I felt weak. I just assumed...”

“You thought you had a human illness?”

“Mmm... what else could it have been?”

Sighing, Emil leaned back and ran his fingers gently through the nephilim's hair, getting a soft murmur of appreciation for the comfort he was providing. “I think you underestimated the impact being so far apart would have on the bond.”

“T-the _bond??_ But that... that went away... the pain...”

“This happened before?”

Otabek closed his eyes, leaning in to the soothing presence of the vampire. Emil's aura was so calm and peaceful, it was almost more comforting than the touches. Normally, being around Yuri's friend made his head hurt, especially when it was contrasted with the fiery aura of his lover, but in his present state he welcomed it.

“In Russia... a-after the ritual to form the bond. We couldn't let go of each other for days without being in agony. It took about a week before we could even be in separate rooms. I just assumed...”

“You assumed it had worn off. Maybe it did... but not enough to tolerate over three _hundred_ miles between you. You didn't think to test it, to find out?”

“No... we didn't.”

“There's something else, too” Emil said, frowning. “Yuri said that he was in pain as well, that he felt like he was starving, but he threw up when he tried to drink... forgive me, it's a personal question... but how often does he... does he...”

“Drink from me? Most nights” Otabek said, burying his head in the pillow in embarrassment at discussing such intimate things. “He doesn't take m-much...”

“I've never known anyone who's experienced it, but it has all the symptoms of addiction... it can happen, sometimes, with particularly powerful nephilim...”

“A-addicition to my _blood_?” Otabek tried to sit up and whimpered, collapsing back onto the sheets.

“Possibly. If it _is_ , Yuri will need to feed as soon as he gets back, or risk a hunger frenzy. You're in no state to...”

“It's fine” Otabek shook his head, “he knows how to... how to restrain himself.”

“He has to. If he doesn't, you'll both die” Emil admonished, standing up and tucking Otabek under the sheets. “Get some rest, if you can. He'll be back soon.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: references to PTSD, blood drinking

Michele opened the door as the taxi pulled up, hurrying to the cab to help the blonde vampire out of the back seat. Yuri looked almost as bad as Otabek, but there was a difference; Otabek had been improving over the last few hours, Yuri looked as if he'd been getting worse. Shivering and grimacing in pain, the blonde vampire snarled at the human as Michele paid the driver, and the Italian recoiled, giving a yelp for Emil even though he knew the vampire was deep in the house, and wouldn't hear him, instinctively turning to the tall vampire for help.

There was a blur, and then Emil was carrying Yuri into the house, his expression grim. Getting rid of the cab and hoping the driver hadn't noticed anything, Michele followed him into the suite as Otabek staggered towards them. When Yuri fell into his arms, they both collapsed onto the floor in a pile of shuddering limbs and soft curses. Despite being unable to understand the language they were speaking, Michele sensed they were apologising to each other fervently as they wrapped their bodies around each other like limpets. Emil gestured, and Michele left the suite, the tall vampire smiling as they went.

As the door clicked shut behind Emil, leaving them alone, Otabek slipped his fingers into Yuri's hair and pulled his lips to his throat, murmuring softly. The scent of the nephilim sent a bolt of heat through the vampire, and Yuri moaned as his fangs sank into pale, shivering flesh. The taste of Otabek's blood burned his throat as he swallowed, and hunger rose up in him like a wave.

The desire for his blood drenched the vampire's aura as soon as Yuri touched him. Otabek closed his eyes and murmured words of love and trust to the blonde, using Old Norse to stay in the vampire's awareness as he drank. The pleasure of the bite rendered the already weak nephilim nearly senseless, but he forced himself to stay awake and keep talking, knowing that if Yuri lost control and drained him, he'd kill them both. The vampire pulled draught after draught out of him, groaning against his skin as the elixir washed away the pain and nausea, leaving nothing but a dark, pounding heat in his veins.

Otabek's voice was the only thing tethering the vampire; as he drank, the nephilim's words cut through the hunger. Pulling his fangs out his flesh after long moments of drinking, Yuri buried his head in his shoulder and shuddered, the desire to continue to drain his lover nearly overwhelming. Gasping for breath so he could speak, the vampire whimpered his shame and regret, knowing he'd almost taken too much, feeling the nephilim's weakness in his _own_ body.

Staggering upright, the vampire lifted his lover carefully onto the bed, drawing the sheets around them both and pulling Otabek against him. The nephilim reeled from blood loss and the pain of the last few days, weeping against Yuri's chest as they clung to each other. Cursing his own greed and stupidity, the vampire held his lover as tightly as he dared, feathering kisses over his forehead as Otabek fell into a deep, dreamless sleep in his arms.

As Otabek and Yuri collapsed into each other's arms, Emil gently guided Michele out of the room and closed the door behind him, his expression relieved. Glaring at him, the human decided he'd had enough of the weirdness in this house.

“What the fuck is going on with them?”

The vampire stared at him, a sadness settling on his features as he spoke. “They're both sick because they were too far away from each other, for too long. Please... please don't ask me any more... it's not my place... not my place to tell...”

Gazing at him, Michele gestured him to the suite upstairs, the lightless one Emil had used for the few weeks he'd guested in the house. Standing in the middle of the small lounge, the human folded his arms and looked at the vampire, taking in his lowered gaze and the way he was gripping his wrists, as if he were afraid to be scolded for something.

“How did you hear me calling for you outside? When Yuri snarled at me?”

“Y-you said my name... I can hear it when people I c-care about speak my name... and I can talk to them no matter where they are...”

There it was again. _People I care about_. Michele dialled his irritation up to actual anger, and stepped into the vampire's personal space, his lip curling as Emil flinched.

“ _What do you want from me_ ” the human growled, his voice thick with anger. “You told me you don't want a pet... you keep saying you care about me... _why_. What do you _want_ from me??”

Looking everywhere but at the angry human in front of him, Emil wished desperately that he could just run away from this conversation. He knew any answer he gave would only enrage Michele more, and he dreaded the moment when the human sent him away again. The time spent at his house had been a slow creep towards reducing the hatred and fear the human had for him, but the crisis with the nephilim had forced him to reveal too much, say too much... and now Michele was asking him a direct question, and he was already in too deep to be able to lie...

“I... I don't want anything from you” he managed, biting back the rest of the words with great difficulty. The effort it took made him tremble, and Michele's eyes narrowed, knowing the vampire was concealing something.

Emil flinched at the touch as Michele tilted his chin to force eye contact, and the human frowned again. “Why are you acting like you're afraid of me” he demanded, and the vampire shuddered.

“I'm not a-acting... I'm terrified of what you're going to ask me” he murmured, and Michele's expression became even harder.

“Why? _Why do you care so much about what I do? Or ask?_ Emil... this is driving me crazy. You said you didn't want to hurt me... but you're constantly screwing around with my head... acting like I _matter_... it's... it's making me nuts. _Tell me the truth,_ for once!”

“I've told you the truth!” Emil jerked his head away from Michele's grasp, taking a step back from the human with a whimper. “I... I can't do anything else! I _can't_ lie to you, Mickey. About anything... _Ever._ ”

“Wha... why not?” Baffled, the human sat on the couch and stared at the vampire. Sighing, Emil sat beside him, deliberately leaving space between them. His strength was almost done, he felt drained and exhausted after the chaos of the evening, and it was nearly dawn. Unable to fight any more, he spoke in a dull monotone, his head in his hands.

“It's just part of who I am. _What_ I am. When I c-care about someone... I can't lie to them, or refuse them anything. I'm afraid that once you u-understand that... you'll abuse it. _You'll make me do things..._ things I don't want to do...”

“Look at me” Michele said, and Emil obeyed instantly, wincing as he did it, his eyes gleaming red from unshed tears. “Why me. Why are you so afraid of _me.”_

“B-because I love you” Emil shuddered, wanting to close his eyes to block out the look of disbelief and confusion on the human's face. Held in place by Michele's command, he settled for watching his eyes as they scanned the vampire's expression, trying to understand what he was saying.

“You... how could you... you've known me for _two weeks_... and I've been nothing but rude to you...”

“It doesn't work like that” Emil said, shaking his head. “I knew I'd fall for you the moment I saw you... I fall hard, and fast, and it's not your fault... or mine... and I knew I'd have to leave before it was too late. When you kicked me out, I was so relieved, because I thought I'd got away in time... but it's too late now. Tonight was too much... I got too close to you.”

“You make me sound like a disease” Michele said, and the vampire laughed bitterly.

“Perhaps you are, to me. Yuri suggested to me once that it was probably the side effect of loving humans so much. Once I love someone, I'm helpless against them.” Sighing, he lowered his eyes, the effect of Michele's order fading over time.

“I said I hated you...”

“I know.”

“I... that doesn't change how you feel?”

“No... no, it doesn't.”

Shaking his head, Michele wrapped his arms around his chest, watching the creature sat next to him. Confused and conflicted, his desire to run away and hide battled with the flood of heat that had run through him at Emil's declaration. It made his head ache with fear, and something else... the words of the vampire came back to him... _I'm afraid that once you u-understand that... you'll abuse it. You'll make me do things..._

“Tell me why Otabek and Yuri are so sick.”

Emil closed his eyes and bit his lip, guilt written all over his face as he spoke. “They're b-bonded to each other... it's a thing only Otabek could do, it's not a vampire thing... the bond makes them stronger, but being apart makes them sick... it _strains_ the bond somehow. Please don't ask me any more...”

“Otabek can do magic, I already know that... at the coven house, he undid Viktor's spells to rescue the other people there. Mila told Sara about it. Is it something to do with his magic?”

“No... it's to do with _what_ he is. Please.. please Mickey... please...” Emil's voice was shaking with pain as Michele pulled information out of him, and the human relented, disgusted with himself for being so cruel.

“Alright. I'll ask him myself once he's recovered.” He watched Emil collapse on himself in relief, and a certainty stole over him. “You really do have to do as I say, don't you?”

Silently, Emil nodded, faint red streaks on his cheeks as he lost the battle against his tears.

“How many have abused this... this weakness... in the past?”

“N-not that many... I've been lucky... there have been a few though, and i-it was...”

“Don't... you don't have to talk about it...” Michele shook his head, the pain in the vampire's expression making his heart hurt. He knew that pain very well, he saw it in his own face every day.

Pushing himself to his feet, Emil staggered a little and gestured towards the bedroom. “It's nearly sunrise” he said, “I'm sorry, I'll... I'll pass out soon...”

Michele followed him into the room and watched as he kicked off his shoes and curled up on the bed, wrapping his arms around himself. It occurred to the human that he'd never seen Emil look so sad, or so vulnerable. The knowledge that he was responsible for the usually jovial vampire's pain and exhaustion hit like a weight in his chest.

“Do you wake up hungry?”

“Wh-what? No... I don't.”

“Good” Michele climbed onto the bed behind the vampire and tucked himself under the sheets, pressing himself against Emil's back with a sigh. “If you bite me when you wake up, I'm never talking to you again” he warned, resting his head against the vampire's shoulder and slipping his arm across his chest. Unable to react beyond a stunned whimper, the sunrise overtook the vampire and he sagged, his body becoming still and silent, helpless until nightfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Emil, you're in so much trouble... <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: references to PTSD, abuse
> 
> I'm on a roll today, been looking forward to writing these scenes!

There was a warmth against his back and chest when he awoke. Opening his eyes, Emil saw a warm bottle on the side table, and a tanned arm looped around his body. He could feel Michele breathing and hear his heartbeat; slow, rhythmic sounds that spoke of light sleep. The human had woken at some point, fetched breakfast for the vampire, then curled back around him and dozed until sundown. Such unexpected behaviour threw Emil completely, and he lay there for long minutes trying to process this turn of events.

After a while, an increase in the speed of Michele's heart indicated he was waking up, and to his embarrassment, Emil froze. Too scared to turn over in case he spooked the human, he waited for the Italian to move or speak with his heart in his mouth.

“Morning” the murmur was soft and sleepy, and Emil inhaled slowly without being sure of what he wanted to say. Unable to find suitable words, he exhaled again, and the human behind him chuckled, linking their fingers together across the vampire's chest.

“It's really easy to tell when a vampire's lost for words. They breathe for no reason.”

“Mmm. I... I'm sorry. For last night... for dropping so much shit on you.”

Propping himself up on his elbow, Michele looked down at the vampire, observing the flicker of his gaze and the hunch of his shoulders.

“I forgive you.” He looked at the bottle and raised an eyebrow. “Aren't you hungry?”

“N-no... I don't need to eat every day. Thank you, though.”

“Seriously? You can go without... without food?”

“I'm used to it.”

Frowning, Michele ran his hand over the vampire's shoulder and tugged, turning him onto his back. Emil looked away, and the Italian slipped his fingers under his chin, tilting his face and forcing eye contact. Biting back a whimper at the intense violet of the human's eyes, the vampire wriggled a little under his scrutiny.

“Last night was... it was a lot” Michele bit his lip. “I needed to sleep on it.”

“Why did you sleep _here_? Doesn't it... doesn't it freak you out to see a... a c-corpse come back to life?”

“I'm used to it” Michele smiled at the expression that crossed Emil's face. “You're not my first vampire, you know.” Emil looked away again at the memory of Michele's experiences at the hands of others.

“You know the strange thing about vampires? Being with one... it's like nothing else seems to make sense, after a while. Normal life... living, breathing humans... none of that satisfies. Otabek told me when he was in Seattle, he couldn't even get it up for another human... I mean, I've never had _that_ problem, but still... they just don't compare.”

“I know” Emil lowered his eyes, gazing at their hands linked together over his sternum. “I spent five years with my sire before I... I died. I remember how it felt.”

“Even after everything that happened, I still... there are parts of it that I... that I miss.” Michele took a shaky breath and rested his head on Emil's chest, murmuring when the vampire looped his arm around him and pulled him closer. “Do you want to know the worst part?”

Shivering, Emil nodded. “You can tell me anything” he said, trying to focus on the Italian's voice, to stay present while he talked about his past. Michele was wrapped around him now, his thigh between the vampire's knees and his cheek resting on his clavicle. It felt like drowning in warmth and life, utterly dizzying.

“Guang Hong... there's something about him... he can't... when he bites, it always hurts. He can't _not_ hurt... but he hates that, so quite often Leo would... they'd both... so it would feel g-good but h-hurt at the s-same t-time...”

Michele's voice broke and he buried his face into the vampire's shirt, hot wetness alerting Emil to his tears. Murmuring softly as he disentangled their fingers, the vampire stroked the human's hair until his sobs eased and Michele clung to him bonelessly, drained and hollowed out.

“I never told anyone that” he whispered, and Emil held him tighter for a moment, then continued to stroke his hair as they lay together. Listening to the human's heartbeat, the vampire could tell he was recovering from the stress of unburdening, relaxing slowly under the soft touches.

“You didn't talk to Sara after you... you left the house?”

“No... she hates that I was there at all, she feels guilty enough about it. I didn't her to know what happened to me... I didn't want her to feel worse.”

Michele pushed himself up onto his elbow again and looked at the vampire, his expression determined. “Did you mean it when you said you wouldn't hurt me?”

“Yes” Emil said with a sigh, “I know you don't believe me...”

“You won't bite me?”

“I _can't_ bite you” Emil corrected, “I wouldn't anyway, but I physically can't bite anyone without their permission. Another weird fact about me” he rolled his eyes, remembering Yuri's exclamation of disbelief when he'd found out. “Unless the person knows what I am, and what they're asking, I can't do it.”

“You are unlike any vampire I've ever met” Michele murmured, running his fingers over Emil's jaw and watching the steel blue eyes slip closed under the touch. “You're really mine?”

“Wh-what?? I... I suppose that's one way to put it” Emil shivered, trying to keep his nerves under control as Michele explored his skin. “T-that's not what you want though... you said that you hate me.”

“Mmm... maybe you're growing on me.”

“P-please don't tease, Mickey. It's cruel...” Emil closed his eyes, fighting back tears. “Once Otabek and Yuri are healthy and safe, I'll make sure you never see me again. You don't have to...”

“You're going to leave?”

“Y-yes. It's how I get over someone... I disappear for a while... the pain is too much when I lose someone, or I'm r-rejected. Yuri calls it my 'cocoon' phase. I... I sleep for a while, and when I wake up, I'm recovered.”

“Sleep? For how long?”

“It depends on the depth of my g-grief. One, two decades. It's like a coma; my mind and body both shut down. I make sure I'm hidden, usually underground.”

Horrified, Michele sat up properly and stared at the vampire, resting his hands on the unmoving chest.

“You go into a _coma? For decades?_ _Every time??_ ”

Emil nodded. “Every time.”

“Why... why do you go near humans, knowing you're going to suffer so much p-pain...”

“W-wh... oh, Mickey... it's not _about_ the pain. It's about the time I get to spend with someone I love. If I'm lucky, I get a lifetime with them” the vampire shook his head, raising a hand to Michele's cheek, pausing uncertainly just before he touched him and then murmuring as the human closed the distance, resting warm skin against the chill of his palm.

“Their lifetime... not yours. You have to suffer... to grieve...”

“Every decade of pain is worth one minute with someone special. Before all this... this horror, didn't you dream of meeting someone you'd fall in love with... grow old with?”

“I... I suppose so... I dreamed of growing old with Sara, of always being near her... no matter who we fell in love with, I assumed we'd be together forever.”

“What I feel is no different. The only difference is, I have to move on after I lose them... or sometimes they leave, and that hurts just as much. But I know I'll feel that love again, eventually.”

“Wait” Michele straightened up, his eyes wide. “Even knowing what you are, and what will happen if they leave, you still get... get _dumped_?”

“Of course” Emil sounded amused. “Life gets in the way. People change what they want... and I never expect otherwise.”

“So if I... if I reject you...”

“I'll go away for a while, until I'm over it. That's not on you, Mickey, I need you to know that. I can't help how I am... but I refuse to make it someone else's problem.”

“Unbelievable... you're _unbelievable._ I'm pretty sure most _humans_ aren't that... that _rational._ ”

“I've had a lot of practice at being rational.”

Sinking down against the vampire, Michele frowned. “How old are you, anyway?” He linked their fingers together again, stroking the frozen flesh. Feeling more solid, more _stable_ after crying, his body was starting to notice the presence of the creature beside him, and remember the potential for pleasure that afforded. He scolded himself, reluctant to allow his hormones to start dictating his actions. When he made the decision to accept the vampire, he wanted it to be on his own terms.

“I'm not sure... I don't really keep track of such things. I know I'm a few centuries older than Yuri... and he always says he was made around the turn of the millennium... so perhaps twelve hundred years old?”

“Over a thousand years? My god... that's insane. To have lived so long, and still be _so human_...”

“It takes effort, and faith. Not in the Gods, but in myself... and in humans, that they're worth the time. I've seen some terrible things, but also some things so beautiful, so loving, it would take your breath away.” Turning so he could look at the Italian, he smiled sadly. “That's why I fell for you... because I saw that despite your suffering and your pain, there was so much love still inside you. For your sister, for yourself... you weren't broken, just badly bruised. I wanted t-to take some of that pain.”

Leaning forward, Michele rested his fingers against Emil's throat and looked into his eyes, watching the vampire's pupils flare. “Do you think you can?”

Shivering, the vampire could taste the sweetness of the human's breath as he spoke. “I can try” he replied, and Michele closed the distance between them, capturing his lips with a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter it's time for smut <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: references to sexual slavery, references to abuse

_Alaska, three years ago_

“They're not so different than us, when it comes to sex.”

Water splashed as Michele listened to the other man talking, trying to keep from drowsing in the warm bath. Phichit was taking a shower, his voice echoing in the steamy room. Next door, Michele could hear other members of Giacometti's 'stable' bathing and chatting in the main hot tub. The two 'favoured pets' had locked the door to the smaller wash room, ensuring some privacy as they talked.

“I mean... obviously they are _completely_ different... but a lot of the same things appeal to them.”

“Him” Michele corrected, getting a curious chirp from the shower cubicle. “You keep saying 'them'... don't you mean 'him'? Giacometti?”

“Hmmm... I meet others when we go away.”

Disgusted, Michele straightened up in the bath, resting his arms on the porcelain and glaring at the cubicle. “ _He lets them borrow you??”_

A giggle met his cry of outrage, and Phichit walked out of the shower, stepping into the huge, sunken bath opposite the Italian and sitting down, clutching his knees to his chest. Michele squawked and covered himself with a flannel, turning pale with embarrassment under his tan.

“Only if I ask him nicely” the Thai replied, watching the other man with interest. “This... all this” he waved a hand at the attempts to cover himself, “this needs to go. You won't survive here if you're so uptight and repressed.”

Spluttering, Michele shook his head, desperate to escape the unexpectedly shared bathtub, but too nervous to stand up directly in front of the over-sexed Thai, terrified at what the man might do if he got that close.

“I won't hurt you, or force you to do anything” Phichit said, his expression sad as he saw the fear in the other man's eyes. “I just want to help you, that's all. You need to break down some of these walls you've built around yourself.”

“I _like_ my walls” Michele nearly whined, reassured a little by the Thai's promise. “I... I don't want to... all I want is to be with Sara. That's all I want...” his voice trailed off and he gulped back a wave of emotion, refusing to sit in the bathtub and cry. Phichit nodded and leaned back, sitting cross legged in the warm, scented water and resting his head against the tiles of the wetroom wall.

“Then you need to survive here” he said, “you need to survive, and stay sane. Otherwise you'll be useless to her, and sooner or later you'll either try to escape, or kill yourself.” Michele shuddered, knowing what happened to subjects that 'tried to escape'. They were given to Seung-gil, to be tortured to death.

“How...” he stopped, the words sticking in his throat. He wanted to ask the Thai how he survived, but he thought he already knew the answer. He'd heard talk that the beautiful pet _chose_ to be here, the same as Sara had. How someone could chose to be a sex toy and live in a harem was beyond his understanding.

“How do I cope?”

“Mmm.”

Phichit smiled, stretching his arms above his head, making the muscles in his torso ripple. Michele choked a little, averting his eyes... everything the man did was sensual, he even looked good brushing his teeth.

“I love it here” the Thai replied, smiling again at the disgust on the Italian's face. “It's everything Christophe promised me when I met him. The only bit I don't like is... well, people like you. No, I don't mean it like that!” he gasped, as Michele's face closed down in anger. “Sorry, sorry... English is hard... I mean” he took a deep breath, thinking his way through his sentence. “I don't like it when they steal people... when people don't _want_ to be here. It's... it's horrible. It breaks my heart.”

“This is so fucked up” Michele sagged back into the water, every inch of him projecting despair. “How am I supposed to... _I don't want any of this._ I just wanted to take my sister home.”

Leaning forward, Phichit pressed his fingers against Michele's wrist, making him glance up. “I'll teach you everything I know. Everything _he'll_ be likely to want from you... but you have to find your own way to live with it. I've seen too many like you, brought here on a whim of one of them. Yuuri and I... we're really _good_ at helping them through it. It makes me sick that I'm so good at it” his voice was sad, and Michele could see the pain in his eyes. “I'll teach you... but if you can learn to enjoy it, it gets easier.”

“E-enjoy it... Jesus Christ.”

“I'll try to keep Chris away from you until you're ready” Phichit trailed his fingers over Michele's skin, watching the way the Italian twitched at the touch. Not quite pulling away; no disgust, or outrage at being touched by a man. That was a good start, at least. “He _will_ want to, eventually... but I'll hold him off for as long as I can.”

“H-how do you have that much control over what he does?”

“He loves me... in his own way. I give him everything he wants... and I know how to make him scream. That's as close to love as he can get.”

“Are they all like that? Sociopaths??”

“You're wondering about Mila?” The Italian lowered his eyes, nodding.

“Mila's very different from Christophe. For a start, she's only had two pets since I got here, including Sara. She can feel real love, that's for sure. Sometimes I wonder...”

“What?”

Phichit shrugged. “I wonder how much of the lifestyle here is their choice. Christophe and Viktor love having pets, but the others don't seem to. Mila talks to Sara like she's a partner, an equal, unless Viktor is around, and Yuri...” he pulled a face at the thought of the blonde, “Yuri hates everyone and everything. I've never known him to... well, to be interested in anyone, let alone a pet. Seung-gil is... Kenjirou arrived not long after I got here, and he seems to take good care of him, despite...” they both shuddered, exchanging grim looks at the thought of the sadistic Korean.

“So you think some vampires _can_ fall in love?”

Phichit sighed and let his fingers trail over Michele's collarbone, making the Italian shiver at the touch. “I think Sara is in a much better position than _you_ are” the Thai said, sadly, “and I think you need my help to adjust to your... situation. So” he caught Michele's other hand and pulled him gently across the tub and into his lap “let me help you.”

_Portland, now_

The kiss was soft and chaste, so the reaction of the vampire was completely unexpected in comparison. Emil whimpered against the human's lips and flinched backwards, jerking away from the touch as if Michele were burning him. Frowning at the implied rejection, the Italian raised an eyebrow and tilted Emil's chin back towards him.

“What is it?”

“P-please... please don't...”

“I thought you wanted this?”

Blood red tears shone in the vampire's eyes as he shivered. “It... it doesn't matter what I want. _You don't_... you _hate_ me... why... why would you...”

Biting his lip, Michele frowned at him as he thought his way through their conversations over the last two days, trying to understand why Emil was pulling away from him after everything they'd said. Comprehension dawned as he remembered the vampire promising to leave him alone, and his eyes narrowed.

“I don't hate you” Michele rested his hands on Emil's chest, shifting his weight so he was sitting on the vampire's hips, effectively pinning him down unless the creature decided to _make_ him move. Emil keened softly at the change of position, and Michele sank his hands into his hair, leaning down to brush the tip of his nose against the vampire's cheek.

“You've tried so hard to get me to trust you” he murmured, running his fingertips over Emil's shirt and opening the buttons slowly. He could feel a pressure against his thighs, and knew the vampire was reacting to him, no matter how much he was trying to hide it. “You promised you wouldn't hurt me... you told me you loved me... that you'll do anything I say... how can I hate you, knowing all of this?”

“M-Mickey...”

Pushing the fabric of his shirt away from his shoulders, Michele stroked the vampire's chest, letting his fingers trail across thick muscle and sensitive nipples. Emil was built like an athlete, his body hard and lean beneath his baggy clothes. Faint scars dotted his flesh, mute testimony to battles fought in life, long before his skin became a frozen, unchanging landscape.

“I missed this...” leaning down over him again, Michele drifted a single fingertip over Emil's stomach, tracing the line of muscle until he reached his own thighs, allowing his hand to lightly brush the rapidly hardening length between his legs. The touch to himself made him close his eyes for a moment as sparks shot through his groin, and Emil groaned, his hands clenching in the sheets as he fought to keep them away from the Italian. Smirking, Michele leaned back and rested one hand on the vampire's stomach, using the other to palm himself through his slacks, his hips twitching and arching against his fingers.

The motion brushed the vampire's length as he writhed in his lap, and dragged another strangled groan from between his lips. Moving slowly and deliberately, Michele moved the other hand behind him, his nails scuffing along the fabric of Emil's jeans until he reached the weight between his legs. The vampire cried out softly as Michele wrapped his fingers around him, murmuring at the length and thickness under his hand.

“Ahh... M-Mickey... p-please...”

“I don't want you to leave” the Italian murmured, and Emil huffed, unable to prevent himself from arching his hips against the insistent hand between his thighs.

“S-stop... Mickey, please... I... I need a m-moment...”

Reluctantly, the human stopped and watched the vampire cover his face with his hands, trying to regain composure. He was utterly flustered; seeing the power he had over the creature below him made Michele want him even more. At least this time, he wasn't crying or heartbroken... Michele had already decided he never wanted to see that expression on Emil's face again.

Gripping his wrists, he tugged and the vampire let him pull his hands away, murmuring as Michele placed them on his waist instead, encouraging the vampire to hold him. Stroking the chilled fingers, he leaned down and captured Emil's lips again, a more demanding kiss this time. The vampire groaned, the sound muffled between them, and the Italian sank his fingers into thick, light brown hair.

Another moan escaped Emil's throat, a deeper sound of pleasure. Sensing his playmate was starting to relax and enjoy himself, Michele pressed in further until the vampire opened his mouth for him, exploring with long sweeps of his tongue, carefully avoiding the sharp fangs with practised ease. Emil reminded him of ice-cream kisses; cold, sweet tasting lips, the warmth of his own breath against the chill of the other making his head spin. The increasing pressure against his thighs made him shiver, and he gasped when Emil shifted his grip, drawing him against his chest and resting one hand on his spine.

The moment the human had kissed him, Emil had been lost; hopelessly overwhelmed and confused, and drowning in unexpected contact. Despite their long conversation, he'd been trying to keep in the front of his mind that Michele hated vampires, hated _him_ , and wanted nothing to do with him. Any deviation from that core state of mind could be attributed to the stress of the evening before, and was not to be taken advantage of.

Then Michele sat on his hips, and everything went sideways. Watching the Italian pleasuring himself while writhing on top of the vampire had blown conscious thought out of the window, and it had taken every ounce of self restraint not to reach for him, desire flooding in like a wave. Compounding Emil's confusion and uncertainty, he'd begun exploring the vampire's body while touching himself, and Emil escalated into full panic.

Now, the taste of his lips and the slower pace gave the vampire time to collect himself and regroup, forcing himself to reorganise his thoughts. Michele's earlier words came back to him. ' _You know the strange thing about vampires? Normal life... living, breathing humans... none of that satisfies_.' The possibility that the Italian might want something from him, even if it was just physical... but the risk of making things worse between them was so high... confused, Emil whimpered again, pulling the human against him despite himself, longing beginning to override reason or expectations.

“You're not using me, or hurting me” Michele murmured, as if hearing the vampire's thoughts as the creature tensed beneath him, “and I won't use you, or hurt you. I'm _not_ made of glass, Emil. You won't break me. I need you to believe that... how can I trust you, if you can't trust yourself?”

Michele let his nose brush the bristles of Emil's beard, following the line of his jaw and down onto his throat. Everything about the vampire was enticing; his hair smooth and soft, his breath sweet, his skin scented with an earthy, musky fragrance. Teasing the long muscles of his neck with his tongue, Michele bent so he could lick heat and wetness across his clavicle and over his sternum, seeking the sensitive nubs he'd found earlier.

“I understand... Can... c-can we move? It's... it's too much...”

“Of course...”

Emil wrapped his arm around the human and lifted him off his hips, making him squeak at the ease with which he was lifted, tucking him in next to him as he rolled onto his side. The shift in position brought them nose to nose on the pillow, and the vampire responded to the Italian's return to their kiss by pulling Michele's knee up over his waist, moving back into each other with a murmur of appreciation. They snuggled together, the human running his fingers through Emil's hair.

“Better?” Michele asked, letting his fingers trail down over the back of the vampire's neck, teasing with his nails.

“Much better. Thank you.”

“You don't like not being in charge?”

“W-what? No... nothing like that. I just... it's been a really long time since anyone... since I...”

Blinking, Michele laughed out loud, pressing his face against Emil's shoulder as he chuckled. The laugh became a sigh of pleasure as he felt the vampire wrap his arms around him, and he lay curled up against him for a while, enjoying the tight grip around his back and shoulders.

“I'm sorry... It didn't even occur to me that you might want to go slowly. That was selfish of me.” Emil murmured an unintelligible reply against his hair, inhaling deliberately so he could breathe in the scent of him. It sounded like the language he used with Yuri, and Michele shook his head.

“English or Italian please, amore mio.”

“Sorry... I said you're not selfish.... d-did you just call me 'my love'??”

Amused at the astonishment in the vampire's voice, Michele kissed his jaw lightly. “Is that OK?”

Unable to reply, Emil buried his head against Michele's shoulder and whimpered helplessly until the Italian pulled him into another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god <3 they are so cute I could die.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: references to PTSD, references to sexual slavery
> 
> Sorry for the lack of update yesterday. Good news! I've story planned the rest of the fic! It's going to be huge... probably bigger than part 1. Why do I do this to myself??
> 
> Anyway, here's the long awaited smut and lemon for MichEmil <3 enjoy!

It took nearly three days before Otabek and Yuri could physically be apart, and during that time, Emil stayed at the house, making sure they were protected while they were essentially helpless. Unwilling to abuse his power over the vampire, Michele deliberately avoided questioning Emil, and let his new lover set the pace between them, discovering quickly that intimacy with the Varangian came in many different forms, all of which he enjoyed and found himself craving at odd moments during the day, when the vampire was unconscious upstairs.

For years, Michele had been used to a dominant, demanding vampiric lover who gave explicit instructions, and having more than one human involved in any sexual activities, since Giacometti was greedy for more than just blood. Emil was nothing like that; he reminded the Italian of loving, human desires and needs he'd almost forgotten. The first time they'd kissed, after a complicated hour or so of talking and learning what they wanted from each other, Emil had been in a bemused, blissed out state just having Michele in his arms. They'd spent the entire night peacefully curled up together, until the vampire felt the effects of the coming sunrise.

The next night, Yuri and Otabek had still been locked in their suite, and Emil decided to help Sara with looking after them. Proving himself a very good cook, he'd also helped the twins clean the house, and amused them both with outlandish tales he seemed to draw from thin air, but that somehow carried a sense of deeper meaning. After Sara had retreated to spend the last few hours of the night with Mila once the redhead finished her work for the evening, the two men had curled up in the guest suite again and Michele had asked Emil about his stories. They turned out to be fairy-tales from countries all across the world that the vampire had learned over the ages. They'd fallen asleep together as the sun came up, fully clothed and happy to just exchanging kisses and soft, chaste touches.

Michele woke up a few hours before sundown, to find himself with morning wood and a sleeping vampire in his arms, like a dead weight against him. Deciding against relieving his own needs, he slipped out of bed, took a cold shower and went in search of breakfast, which put him in the kitchen when Otabek finally risked separating from the blonde.

The tanned, violet eyed twin had been tense and on the edge of fury ever since Otabek had first met him, over a year ago at the manor in Alaska. Permanently annoyed by his sister's relationship with Mila and desperately unhappy with his own situation, then badly used by the two new vampires at the coven house, moving to Portland hadn't relaxed him at all. So Otabek was stunned into silence by the sight of him making a late breakfast with a calm expression, and a lively, hopefully aura.

“Any chance I could get some of that?” the nephilim asked, indicating the salmon and eggs Michele was cooking. Glancing at him, the Italian winced and nodded.

“Of course. You look terrible.”

“Thanks?”

“I mean it, you look half dead. What happened? Did... did Yuri...”

“I'm fine. Just... the last week's been a bit punishing, that's all.”

“Sara said you couldn't come down, she's been taking food up to you. What's that all about?”

“Mmm... the first few days after he got back, we... we couldn't really separate. Too painful. Yuri... he was really sick, probably worse than me. It seemed easier to just stay upstairs until it wore off.”

“Emil didn't want to tell me what happened to you two... and I decided not to push... but Otabek, seriously. I thought we were trying to get _away_ from all this magic crap.”

Handing a plate to the Kazakh, Michele wandered into the lounge to eat, curling up on the couch and giving him a stern look. Sitting opposite, Otabek smirked at him, changing the subject artfully.

“Emil, huh. He's still here?”

“You know he is. I _know_ you can sense them.”

“Hmmm... he's a bit different. His aura reads as nearly human, it's confusing.”

Michele stared at him, then laughed. “That figures. Yes, he's still here. He's using the suite on the second floor.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Shaking his head, Otabek busied himself with his food. “Fine, none of my business anyway. But if he's going to be staying regularly, you'd better adjust the deliveries for three vampires. Don't want anyone getting hungry.”

Blushing, the Italian poked his breakfast around his plate. “Would it be OK if he did? Stay occasionally?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“It's your house.”

Grunting, Otabek put his empty plate on the floor, debating over attacking the fridge for steak. “It's not _my_ house. Technically it's Yuri's, but he never cares about things like that. You live here too, it's _our_ house. Besides, I'm sure Yuri would be happy to have him around – he did move here for him, after all.”

“He... he what?”

Otabek shrugged. “Apparently Emil's very territorial. Yuri knew if we came here, Emil would help protect us from Viktor... if only because Viktor would be messing with his territory.”

“That makes sense.” Pulling a blanket out from under the couch, Michele tucked himself in and put his head on a cushion. Otabek gave him a friendly glare.

“Don't fall asleep down here, you have a perfectly good bed. Two, I suspect.”

“Shut up” the Italian said, wriggling deeper into his blanket. “I'll go up once I've had some of whatever you're about to go and cook” he added, winking at the Kazakh.

Feeling personally attacked over his appetite, Otabek huffed his way into the kitchen. “Why are you so hungry all the time, anyway” Michele called through from the lounge.

“I have no idea. I think it's because Yuri's always hungry... I think I pick up on it somehow.”

“You two are so weird. Are you going to tell me what the deal is?”

Digging a pack of steaks out of the fridge, Otabek shook his head. “No, I'm not... but only because I'm... I'm not really OK with it all myself yet. It's not Yuri's fault” he added, hastily, “it's just... the bond between us _changed_ things... I'm still getting my head around that.”

There was a long silence from the other room, and when Otabek glanced in he saw Michele staring blankly at the wall opposite his couch. Feeling the Kazakh's eyes on him, he smiled a bit wistfully.

“I understand that... I'm trying to adjust to certain changes, myself.”

After stealing some of Otabek's steak and chips, Michele disappeared upstairs, brushing his teeth and stripping down to his boxers before tucking himself into the motionless form of his vampire and dozing for a few hours. As the sun sank below the horizon, Emil stirred and murmured something in his strange, old language as he found Michele tucked in beside him, back against the vampire's chest. The unexpected nakedness and warmth of the Italian's body took him by surprise, and he gently brushed his nose through Michele's hair, keen to wake him without leaving cold touches on his bare skin.

Pressing back against him firmly as he woke up, Michele smiled as he felt the twitch in the vampire's slacks. He knew the vampire was trying to give him space and time to adjust to their new situation, and was trying to get used to it himself, but the feel of him hardening against his thigh made the Italian's libido sit up and beg. Turning his head for a kiss, he deliberately arched his hip so Emil had to lean over him to kiss him. The moment he felt the bulge of the vampire against his leg, he wriggled slowly against him with a soft moan, licking his way into his mouth as his lover panted at the touch.

“Mickey...”

“Do you want me, Emil?”

“Y-you know I do... but...”

“I don't want to ask you, or tell you what I want... I know you can't say no if I do that... and it's really, really important to me that I never do that. I never want to manipulate you, my love.”

Groaning, Emil pressed his lips against Michele's shoulder, most of his focus on the movement of the human's hips against his arousal. The importance of his words got through to him after a moment, and he shook himself.

“Y-you don't want to ask... ask what?”

“For more... between us.”

“You mean...” Emil let his fingers drift over Michele's chest, following the line of taught abdominal muscles until he reached the waistband of his shorts. He could feel the insistent heat there, and the tension in the fabric. At the icy touch, the Italian whimpered and nodded, his eyes closing and his body pressing even harder against the vampire, his desire written on his face.

“Are you sure you're r-ready for that? After what you've been through...”

“Will you stop if I ask you to?”

“Of course!”

“Then yes... I... I trust you, Emil...” his voice was certain and reassuring, and Emil knew he had to trust Michele too... trust him to know his own limits and needs.

“I promise to take care of you...” the vampire murmured, seeking Michele's lips as he stopped fighting his desires for the human in his arms.

Cold fingers moved over Michele's thigh, and then eased up over the hardening length between his legs, outlining it through the fabric of his shorts. A moan slipped out of his throat, captured by Emil's deepening kiss as he arched up against the vampire's hand, wanting more. Smiling, his lover obliged, tugging his shorts out of the way and wrapping his fingers firmly around his length. Closing his eyes against the heat the human was grinding against him with each movement, he switched his kisses to Michele's shoulder and back as he worked him, winning more strangled moans with each touch.

“Wait... wait” Michele panted, and Emil immediately removed his hands from his body, leaning away from him to give him space. Panting with lust, the human shook his head, resorting to Italian to speak.

“Needs... it's too much without... hang on” he gasped, reaching into the top drawer of the night stand for the supplies he'd hidden there earlier in the day. Curling back against the vampire, he passed the tube over his shoulder and murmured “please...”

Taking the lube, Emil exhaled a nervous breath he hadn't really meant to take and slicked his fingers, reaching over the human's hip again to encircle his length. Instantly crying out and grinding back against him again, Michele rested one hand on the vampire's hip, pulling them closer together as he bucked against the cold, slippery fingers on his cock.

“Fuck... that's so much better...”

“Sorry... you should have said at the start...”

“Mmm... f-fuck... E-Emil...”

“Tell me what you want me to do” Emil begged, the writhing of the human in his lap making his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure.

“I... don't want to m-make you...”

“P-please... it turns me on so m-much... I trust you...”

Groaning, the Italian pulled his hand away, turning into him and taking the lube from his hands. “I want you to fuck me” he whispered, pressing their lips together as he slicked his own hand and moved Emil's fingers back to his arousal. “Make me come like this, then fuck me until I come again... I know you have the stamina...”

“Yes... yes... f-fuck... M-Mickey...” the vampire was panting with lust, breathing almost unconsciously as he moaned and whimpered, his words muffled by their kisses. Increasing the speed of his stroking, teasing hand, he heard the gasp as Michele began to prepare himself, rocking his hips onto his own fingers as Emil worked his cock. Overwhelmed for a moment, the vampire rested his cheek on the Italian's head and just concentrated on pleasuring him, unable to focus enough to kiss him at the same time.

Without Emil's lips on his, Michele quickly slipped into a breathy, shattered moaning that threatened to undo the vampire entirely. Needing to slow himself down, Emil rolled onto his back and pulled the human on top of him, deliberately moving him onto the chilled plane of his stomach to take some friction off himself.

Taking his weight on his knees, the Italian eased a third finger inside himself, forcing himself to work slowly despite his eagerness to feel the vampire inside him. The pressure and friction on his cock resumed, and he bent over, resting his forehead against Emil's as he gasped and moaned his way into orgasm, unable and unwilling to hold back. As he came, he cried out the vampire's name, trapping his lips in a bruising kiss as he soaked the icy skin of his chest with his fluids.

“Mio dio... g-grazie...”

Groaning, Emil bent his knees and eased Michele down onto his hips, letting the Italian feel the vampire's length as he worked his fingers deep inside himself. Michele's patience ran out at the touch of that cold hardness and he withdrew his hand, sinking himself down onto Emil's arousal with a long, breathless moan of pleasure.

“E-Emil... ahhh f-fuck... fuck...”

Desire had overwritten everything for the vampire now, all that was left was the heat and scent of the human he had fallen for. The sound of Michele's racing heart and pounding blood surrounded him and he pressed his lips against the Italian's shoulder, words of love and need spilling from his lips in several different languages as he felt himself hilted. Thrusting deep into wet, tight heat, Emil closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his lover, listening to his moans and cries of bliss, instinct making him handle the human carefully as they rocked together.

Clenching one hand into Emil's hair, the Italian cried out as the vampire took over the motion, gripping himself with slick fingers and stroking in time with the thrusts inside him. His lover was moving carefully to avoid hurting him, but wasn't yet in the right place, and for a moment he thought he would have to take control again... then Emil murmured into his ear, and heat shot through him instantly at the confidence in his voice.

“D-don't want to r-rush you... tell me when y-you're ready...”

“Fuck... I'm ready... p-please...”

With a sigh of relief, the vampire shifted his hands to Michele's hips and arched up into him, changing the angle of his thrusts to press deeper, rubbing against his sweet spot with each motion. The Italian gave a louder cry, throwing his head back and sitting up, both hands covering Emil's on his hips as he rode him. In minutes, their pace began to stutter and the vampire felt the fluttering and twitching inside his lover as his climax raced toward him, drawing them both over the edge with curses and sobs of pleasure.

Collapsing on Emil's chest, Michele whimpered as he throbbed around the frozen length inside him. The vampire sounded just as wrecked, murmuring in his ancient dialect, his fingers clenched on his lover's hips, only the instinct of centuries of being with humans preventing him from sinking his claws into his flesh. As he felt himself soften, he eased them apart and tucked Michele back into him, pulling the sheets between them to prevent the chill of his flesh affecting the human. Sticky and musky, they lay together until Michele's breathing lost the ragged edge of pleasure, and he pressed his nose against Emil's cheek.

When he spoke, the vampire winced at the broken sound of his voice. “It's... it's not enough... f-fuck... I'm so... p-pathetic.. .so f-fucked up...”

“No, you're _not_. I lived with a vampire when I was human, I know how it f-feels...”

“I don't want it... I don't... but I... I _n-need_ it...”

Hushing him gently, Emil rolled him onto his back and wiped his tears away, kissing his lips as sweetly as he knew how.

“There's nothing wrong with wanting it... but you have to ask baby, or I can't...”

“ _I know..._ fuck... do it... please... please b-bite me... _I need it..._ ”

Coherent thought in the cloud of lust that descended on him at Michele's words was like trying to think through treacle, but the vampire forced himself to focus on his lover. Wanting to avoid any more trauma to the sobbing man, he ran his hand down his body tenderly, resting his fingers on his thigh.

“Where? Somewhere no-one else has... somewhere just for you... just for when _you_ want it...”

Opening his eyes, Michele stared up at the vampire in wonder, stroking his cheek as he gazed at him. “You... you're so... how do you even exist?”

Emil smiled down at him silently, kissing the tip of his nose. He would do everything he could to give his lover what he needed, but he didn't trust himself to speak, concerned that the lust Michele's request had shot through him would terrify the human.

“M-my thigh... p-please...”

Forcing himself to move slowly, Emil trailed kisses down Michele's chest and stomach, wrapping his fingers around his cock to ground him in the pleasure that was about to come. Watching him rest his lips against the unmarked expanse of flesh, Michele groaned and nodded, murmuring his need and sinking his fingers into Emil's hair. He held out until he felt the brush of fangs on his skin then lay back, eyes closing as he fought back waves of fear and lust.

“Do it...”

The moan as he slammed into a third orgasm from the bite was visceral and his body wrenched off the bed, anchored only by the vampire's hand around his instantly solid cock. The grip on his arousal took him over the edge into a full climax and he released everything he had left over his stomach. He collapsed back into the pillows with a cry that was almost a laugh, flooded with relief that his desperate, conflicted need had become something so much more human at the touch of his tender lover.

Emil withdrew his fangs almost as soon as he heard Michele cry out, keeping his hands on him through pure instinct as the heat of his lover's blood raced through his body. Easing himself to the side as the Italian subsided, laughing softly to himself in relief, the vampire dragged his human into his arms and then stopped fighting his body, shuddering as the heat and desire and pure, primal possessiveness ran through him.

Aware that the vampire had stroked him through his climax and then curled up against him with a whimper and become insensible for a few minutes, Michele watched him with concern as he swam back to full awareness, looking shattered and vulnerable. Peppering soft kisses over Emil's lips, the Italian ran his fingers through his hair as steel blue eyes opened and he smiled into the touches.

“You went away there for a while...”

“Mmm... I should have warned you...”

“What happened? W-wait... you're...” Snuggling their bodies together under the blanket, Emil smiled again as his lover registered the change in his body temperature. “You're _warm..._ really _warm_... is that... is that from me??”

“I don't taste human blood very often” Emil said, burying his face against Michele's shoulder. “The bottled stuff we use is all s-synthetic, sourced from labs, not suitable for human transfusion. It keeps the hunger at bay... m-mostly... but... it's not the same. Human blood is more powerful...”

“You barely took any... just _that_ was enough to make you...”

“Mmm... it's more than that. You _asked_ me to... and I love you... it affects me more. I'm a freak, even amongst a race of freaks” he laughed, and Michele wrapped his arms around his head fiercely, holding him as tight as he could.

“You're _my_ freak” he growled, “and I'm never letting you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah my beautiful boys... now, on to more plot!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: references to torture, war crimes, ancient warfare.

Pine needles layered the base of the log pile, throwing a fresh, green scent into the room as the fireplace crackled and flickered. The firelight illuminated the silver hair and pale skin of the vampire as he sat motionless in front of the blaze, his fingertips resting against his lips. Curled up on the couch next to him, his head in the creature's lap, his human pet slept peacefully, snuggled around their large brown poodle. Staring at the fire, Viktor ran his fingers through his lover's hair as he watched the flames, his mind hundreds of miles away and a thousand years ago.

_Constantinople, 860AD_

_Smoke billowed from the burning suburbs of the Byzantine capital, the stink of charred flesh drifting across the water to the Rus fleet. Watching the slaughter from the deck of the flagship, the three vampires stood silently, each lost in their own thoughts._

_Heir and right hand of the Vampire Tsar, Georgi wore light armour and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. Shoulder length hair pulled back in a topknot, he looked every inch the hardened warrior he was. His face was carefully blank, refusing to acknowledge the screams of the dying that reached his extraordinarily sensitive hearing. Only the fierce, enraged grip on his sword gave any indication of his feelings about what he was witnessing._

_To the left, the Grand Magi of the Court ran his eyes over a small tome in his hand, throwing the shore occasional glances. Viktor wore an elaborate set of robes, dressed in the style of a scholar, and his silver hair hung to his hips, braided against the stiff breeze blowing over the Bosporus sea. His usually shining blue eyes were dark and hooded, and his lip was curled with disgust at the waste of life before them._

_The central figure was the shortest, and physically appeared to be a middle aged male. Grey hair to his shoulders, thinning on top, Yakov's features were harsh and blocky, set in an expression of permanent outrage. His blue eyes glinted in the moonlight and he rested his arms against the bow as the fires took hold of the outer parts of the city._

_“How long before they take the Isle of the Princes?” Yakov demanded, and Georgi frowned, looking in that direction. His supernaturally enhanced eyesight picked out figures moving through the monastries, cutting down guards and holy men alike._

_“Not long. Maybe an hour.”_

_“You told them to bring captives back here?”_

_“As you ordered, your Imperial Majesty.”_

_Returning his attention to the shore, Yakov narrowed his eyes. “How many dead?”_

_“Over two hundred so far. Mostly women and children. As you predicted, there were hardly any soldiers left after the deployment of the navy.”_

_“Viktor, as soon as the twenty two prisoners are brought on board, get started with the ritual. I want to be back in Holmgard before the Emperor returns to the city and leads an army against us.”_

_Turning on his heel, Viktor disappeared wordlessly into the bowels of the ship to begin his preparations. Georgi shifted his weight, watching the progress on the Isle as Yakov brooded._

_After a while, Georgi made an annoyed sound. “Dimitri's on his way back” he grunted. A boat appeared out of the smoke bank, a young man in his mid twenties standing in the prow while two soldiers rowed. Covered in blood and bearing a nasty wound to his shoulder, still he was grinning savagely. Bowing to the two vampires, he called up his report._

_“The men are drowning and butchering, as you ordered. Taking the city itself with our remaining numbers would be diff...”_

_“Unnecessary. Focus on keeping the garrison away from the Isle. Send your men back with their orders, you come up here and get that shoulder seen to.”_

_As the human made his way to his owner's side, Georgi turned to look back at the Isle. Boats filled with sobbing prisoners streamed towards the fleet, cast into deep shadow by the fires from the shore. Holding himself utterly still, he watched until the last of the prisoners had been taken to Viktor's ritual circle, then stood watching the outskirts of the city burn as the axes fell and the screaming began._

_Now_

Stirring in his chair, Viktor laid his pet's head on a cushion and crossed to the wall, running his fingers over the books in the sconce shelf; the few he'd been able to save from the library in Alaska, given the time limit his child had imposed upon him. Selecting a small, ancient, leather-bound tome, he pulled it free and muttered an incantation, deactivating the wards on the book. Flipping through the pages, he stood reading silently, listening to the pop and crackle of the logs.

“You're troubled.”

“Mmm. Did I wake you, my love?”

Yuuri sat up, patting Makkachin to keep him from leaping off the couch. “You've been worrying over something for weeks, now you're reading from the books you told me never to touch, and your face is like thunder. You're scaring me, Viktor.”

Glancing up, the vampire took in the concerned frown, and the nervously twitching hands of his pet. Slipping the book into his robe, he sat back on the couch and pulled Yuuri into his arms, resting his nose against his scalp.

“Do you know how many lovers I've taken over the centuries?”

Uncomfortable, Yuuri squirmed a little. “I... I don't want to think about it.”

“Hundreds” Viktor said, stroking the back of Yuuri's neck. “Hundreds of men, and women, have caught my eye and entertained me for a while. Sometimes they stay with me for years, other times they... disappoint me... and I let them go peacefully. But you” he tilted Yuuri's chin and kissed him softly, “you are the only one I have ever loved. Truly loved, loved enough to show the darker sides of who I am. Loved enough to take with me, and keep with me.”

Staring up at the vampire, Yuuri murmured a soft reply in Japanese, and Viktor smiled. “I know you love me too” he said, kissing the human again. “Everything I took from Alaska pales into insignificance, besides you.”

“Tell me why you're worried” Yuuri insisted, touching his lover's jaw with a fingertip. “I won't be able to help, I know that... but you might feel better talking about it.”

Sighing, Viktor leaned back on the couch. “I thought taking the seat on the Council would be enough, I really did. But now I'm there...”

“It's not enough?”

“They're all so...” _Powerful. Intimidating. Strong. Dangerous._ “They're so much older than me... I'm the weakest there. I have _no power_ over them.”

Yuuri watched the fire, feeling the anger in Viktor's frame as the vampire stroked his hair. It was a type of tension, making his limbs quiver and his muscles twitch even as he tried to portray a sense of calm.

“They control you?”

“They'll try to... unless I find a way to get stronger.”

“Can you?”

Drawing the small book out from his robe again, he ran his fingers down the spine, narrowing his eyes as he looked into the fire. “Perhaps... but it will be dangerous... and costly.”


	13. Chapter 13

A warm bottle was pressed into his hand as he woke up, and Yuri smiled. Breakfast in bed usually meant Otabek was horny and wanted to make sure Yuri wouldn't eat him by accident during sex. Draining the bottle in a few gulps, he turned into his nephilim's arms, purring happily at the simultaneous invasion of fingers and tongue from his enthusiastic lover. In a few moments they were wrapped around each other, and the vampire was well on the way to his first climax of the evening when Otabek froze, head on one side as if listening to something only he could hear.

Growling at the interruption of their pleasure, Yuri stroked his cheek to bring him back into the room. “What is it, my love?”

“Visitors...” Otabek pulled away from the vampire, getting another frustrated growl, and threw himself into the en suite. “Clean up. They'll be here in a few minutes.”

“ _Who?”_

“Christophe Giacometti and Seung-gil Lee. I just picked up their auras entering Portland. They're heading this way.”

Michele eyed his lover as Emil paused mid bite of breakfast eggs, setting his cutlery aside with an irritated grunt. He recognised the look; someone was talking to the vampire using his abilities to hear over distance. When Emil replied, it was in the archaic tones he'd come to recognise as Old Norse, and the Italian lowered his fork. Yuri contacting him this early in the evening couldn't be good. They'd stayed at Emil's house for the last few days, and the smaller vampire hadn't bothered them until now.

His lover snapped a very brief, very angry reply and then stood up, crossing to Michele's side of the table. The human found himself engulfed in his arms, Emil murmuring against his hair.

“I don't know how to tell you this... so I'll just say it. Giacometti is in Portland, he's heading to Yuri's place.”

The Italian whimpered, sinking his fingers into Emil's back and pressing his head against his shoulder. _Christophe Giacometti..._ of all the vampires at the Coven, the Swiss was the one he hated least... and was most afraid of at the same time. Technically, he _belonged_ to the depraved creature, and he still had nightmares from the three years he had spent living Christophe's harem in Alaska.

“I won't let him get anywhere near you” Emil whispered, kissing his forehead and holding him as tight as the human could stand. “I promise.”

“I... I still... he's still... he still _owns_ me...”

“No, he doesn't... and I'll explain that to him violently if he tries to claim you.”

“Emil...”

Hushing the terrified Italian, Emil tilted his chin to look up at him. “You don't have to go anywhere near them, you can stay here...”

“No! Sara's in that house...”

“OK. Then let's get over there and deal with them.” As Michele slipped off the stool and grabbed his jacket with trembling hands, Emil shook his head. “They are definitely _not_ welcome in Maine” he growled, and for the first time, the Italian had an insight how dangerous his vampire could actually be. The thought of how much the powerful creature loved him filled him with relief, and he snuggled into Emil's side as they waited for their taxi.

Christophe and Seung-gil were in the main lounge when they arrived, and Michele bolted straight past the room and into his sister's arms where she was hiding in the small adjoining kitchen. It took a few moments to realise that she wasn't alone.

“Michele!” the Thai pet belonging to Christophe sounded overjoyed to see him, and despite himself he smiled, folding the other man into a hug. Beside him, Seung-gil's pet stood silently, but his eyes were on the Italian and there was a faint smile on his face. Remembering not to touch the skittish, heavily scarred boy, Michele smiled back at Kenjirou, then glanced around for the Kazakh who should have been with the rest of the humans in the kitchen. Otabek was stood beside Yuri in the lounge, glaring at the two ex Coven members.

As Michele refocused on what was happening in the main room, a soft whimper of distress escaped his throat as he saw the anger in Emil's face. The taller Varangian stood in the middle of the room, standing in front of Yuri and Otabek and curling his lip in a snarl. Christophe and Seung-gil gave him a wary look, his aggression unmistakable. As he spoke in clipped English, his tone was bordering on rage, and Michele trembled with a combination of terror and lust. He'd never seen his lover even close to this kind of fury; knowing a large part of it was coming from a desire to protect the Italian sent his heart into his throat.

“How dare you set foot in my territory... you are _not_ welcome here” Emil snarled, and the humans in the kitchen flinched at the thinly veiled promise of violence in his words. Behind him, Yuri stirred and leaned back against Otabek as Mila ghosted into the room. She nodded to the blonde, and the smaller vampire spoke aloud.

“Emil... they're here with a message from... concerned members of the Council, regarding Viktor. I need to hear what they have to say before you kick them out.”

Growling, Emil folded his arms across his chest. “What's wrong with email? They knew they were violating my territory coming here... there are consequences to that.”

“This is too important to risk being intercepted” Christophe's voice was like treacle, his European accent making his English purr. The sound made Michele twitch in fear, and he tucked himself behind his sister unconsciously, biting back any sound that might telegraph how scared he was to his already infuriated lover.

“Why is Otabek in there with them? If things get violent, he'll be squashed like a bug...” Phichit murmured, and Sara shrugged. Michele privately wondered about that; finding out that Otabek had magical abilities had changed his view on the man over the last few months.

The Kazakh was stood with his arm around Yuri, his body tense and his expression almost murderous as he gazed at Seung-gil. The Korean was doing his best to ignore that look, keeping his face calm and focusing on the angry Varangian towering over him. If anything, Seung-gil looked bored with Emil's display.

“The First and Third Seats of the Council tasked us with bringing word to you of the suspicious behaviour of your sire. They hope you will take appropriate action to control him.” Pausing, Seung-gil frowned, genuine bafflement on his face. “ _Why_ they think you're capable of that, I don't know.”

Christophe gave him a slightly amused look, and then nodded to Yuri. “Celestino said that if you can't get him under wraps, perhaps the Spymaster might be influential in this matter.” At the mention of _spymaster_ , Seung-gil curled his lip in an expression of utter disgust, and Kenjirou twitched at Michele's side, radiating a desire to be in the room beside his master.

“Things are that bad?” Emil sounded surprised, and Christophe nodded.

“They believe Viktor is working on some kind of ritual... he's been off the radar for nearly a month, and he's gathering a large number of people at his dacha outside Moscow. They all seem relatively healthy, but it's suspicious. His pet is hosting them while he visits various locations around Russia and the former USSR... every time he returns, he has more packages and parcels with him.”

“Gathering materials” Otabek murmured, glancing down at Yuri. “Can you see what he's up to?”

“I can try... last time I looked, he hadn't... ah” Yuri nodded, his expression bleak. “I can't see him, or Yuuri. It's like a fog when I try to find them. He's hidden himself using magic.”

Beside them, Mila sat on the couch and sighed. “If we've decided to talk instead of fight, could we please sit down? You're making everything very untidy, and Emil still looks as if he's going to explode.”

Yuri chuckled and nodded, curling up on Otabek's lap like a cat when the Kazakh sat down. Phichit decided to interpret that as a cue to slip into the room and sit at Christophe's side, and in moments the other humans had joined their lovers and owners in the lounge. As Michele settled himself beside Emil, Christophe gave him a curious look, then smirked as Emil narrowed his eyes and put his arm around the Italian possessively.

“Viktor was always going to be a threat” Mila started, “so I've been keeping tabs on his human activities, and Guang Hong has been watching his more... esoteric behaviour. When you arrived, I called him and confirmed; Viktor's been obtaining ritual supplies from various shady places, as well as books and equipment. His financials indicate he's trafficking humans to his dacha, collecting people no-one will miss.”

“How many people?” Otabek's voice was tight, and Mila frowned. “Twelve so far, but more arrive every week. Humans aren't so easy to buy in bulk unless you have Seung-gil's contacts.”

“Can you stop him?” Otabek growled at Seung-gil, and the Korean tilted his head as if wondering why he was being addressed by a pet. Shrugging, he nodded.

“I can... but you don't want me to. If he can't get people through traffickers he'll probably just switch to picking them off the streets. At least this way, we know how many he's getting, and when they're arriving.”

“What do the numbers of people tell us?” Yuri asked, and the Kazakh rumbled ominously.

“How big the ritual is likely to be” he replied, turning in his seat to look at the rest of the vampires as they stared at him in surprise. “Viktor's magic uses souls to power it” he explained. “Simple spells pull on his _own_ soul, and leave him slightly weak for a few days or weeks, depending on what he's done. Most of you must have seen this; times when he wouldn't interact with you, or seemed unusually tired” The vampires from the Coven all nodded. “Bigger spells and rituals require much more power. For those, he uses humans. Somewhere in the foundations of the old Coven house, he made a 'font' to collect the souls of every human that died in the manor. Those powered the wards and protections on the house, and he could draw upon them whenever he needed. Think of it like a private fuel cell.”

“T-the spirits that Guang Hong saw...” Mila's voice was muted, and Otabek nodded again.

“Exactly. That source of power is no longer available; when Guang Hong exorcised the house, he destroyed it.”

“You're _sure?_ ” Yuri demanded.

“Quite sure. I asked him directly. He said there wasn't an awful lot of power left there anyway – Viktor transferred most of it into himself before he left the house. We think that's why he left so many books behind; he didn't have time to pack the library for safe transport _and_ drain the soul font. He had to pick which would be the most valuable resource.”

“How do you know so much about this?” Christophe demanded, and Yuri smirked, resting a hand on his lover's arm.

“Otabek has many skills. I wouldn't recommend underestimating him.”

Mila paled a little and nodded. “Otabek knows what he's talking about. Listen to him.”

With a smirk, Seung-gil raised an eyebrow. “So you've increased in power since I last saw you... how interesting. Perhaps it's a good thing I didn't break you back at the manor.”

The furious Kazakh leaped across the room at him almost as soon as he'd finished speaking, but caught himself at the sight of Seung-gil's pet, who had moved at exactly the same moment and stood in front of his owner, his eyes blazing with fury. Looking over his shoulder, Yuri took in the defensive reaction of the smaller human and took his lover's hand, tugging Otabek back onto their couch. The rest of the room stared at the Japanese pet, only Seung-gil looking calm and unaffected by the drama.

“Kenjirou... why...” Otabek murmured, “why would you protect him...”

 _He's mine... you will not hurt him._ The voice was silent, and with a flash of insight Otabek understood that the smaller pet was tapping into the dormant link between them, created when the nephilim had returned Kenjirou from the dead at the manor. Replying in the same way, Otabek expressed his bafflement.

_He's done nothing but hurt you... he nearly killed you..._

_He does no more or less than what I ask from him... don't judge what you don't understand, Otabek._

Yuri glanced down as Otabek's hand tightened into a painful, vice like grip, the nephilim shaking, his eyes wide and his expression bruised and shocked. Unwilling to break his lovers fingers to make him let go, the blonde settled for brushing his lips across Otabek's arm and murmuring in Old Norse “you're hurting me, my love. Let go, please.”

With a guilty grunt, Otabek released his hand and stood up. “I need some air” he growled, throwing Kenjirou an apologetic look as the pet returned to sitting at Seung-gil's feet. Shaking his head, the nephilim left the room, heading out into the back garden for some breathing space.

A tense silence hung in the air after he left, and Christophe finally broke it with a soft question to Yuri. “How could he hurt you? You don't feel pain...”

“Your eavesdropping was always annoying” the blonde said, tossing his head in irritation. “It's none of your business. Now... can we focus on Viktor and his plans, please, without any further distractions?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O_o the truth about Kenjirou at last?!
> 
> Also - protective Emil is adorable and I love him.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: references to mental health issues, self harm, torture

Otabek stayed out in the overgrown depths of the garden until the early hours of the morning, staring at the waxing moon and listening to the scurrying of night animals. Yuri silently relayed the basics to him as the vampires talked in the lounge, but he found himself disinterested, his emotions dull and his energy low. Around four in the morning Emil and Michele left, and the new occupants of the house busied themselves with settling in to their rooms and feeding themselves before sunrise.

Making his way back towards the house, Otabek tensed as he picked up the approaching aura of Seung-gil's pet. The night air in the garden was cool, but his face and body immediately burned hot with humiliation and helpless anger. That emotion was becoming a regular part of his life now; since the bond in Russia, he found his patience shorter than he'd ever known. The rage bubbled under his skin, the urge to lash out almost overwhelming.

Stepping quietly, Kenjirou stood on the patio and gazed out across the garden. Not daring to look at him for fear of losing his temper, Otabek prepared to reach out with his mental voice, but stopped as the smaller man spoke aloud for the first time in the two years he'd known him.

“I'm sorry... for what happened when you... saved my life. Seung-gil... he didn't tell me it would hurt you. He knew I'd change my mind if I knew that, and he wanted to make me happy.... and then Viktor took your memories, and I couldn't apologise without making things worse.”

He spoke in Japanese, his voice soft and cracked from disuse. Otabek turned to stare at him, stunned into silence. Kenjirou was looking up, watching the night clouds, and he was holding the brutal collar he usually wore, his fingers twisting on the leather, an open padlock in his other hand. The absence revealed the thick line of scar tissue than encircled his throat, from years of wearing the harsh device. Otabek realised speaking with it on would probably be impossible.

“Who _are_ you?” the nephilim breathed, unable to articulate fully the shock of what he was seeing. The Japanese man smiled, still unwilling to make eye contact but inclining his head towards the other.

“The others have gone to bed, but Yuri told me you were still outside. I think he was shocked that Seung-gil asked where you were. I... I owe you an explanation.”

“You can speak to Seun... to _him..._ the way we did earlier?”

“No... that was new. I... I've been with him for nearly four years, I don't need to speak for him to know what I want.”

Leaning against the patio wall, Otabek folded his arms over his chest and chewed his lip. “Everything I thought I knew about you is wrong” he said, and Kenjirou smiled again.

“No... you only made one mistake... thinking I was l-like you... unwilling.”

“ _How could you..._ your scars... he nearly _killed_ you...”

Running his hand over his torso thoughtfully, Kenjirou turned to face the Kazakh. “Antisocial Personality Disorder, with severe anxiety and depression, and masochistic tendencies, is my official diagnosis. I just thought I was living in hell.”

“Y-you were committed?”

“Several times. It never helped, and the side effects of the drugs were horrendous. The only time I felt even close to stable was when I had someone hurting me when I needed them to. Doing it to myself didn't work. Before I met Seung-gil, I had been 'owned' by five different dominants, but none of them were willing to go to the extremes I needed... and so I kept moving on, looking for someone who would do the things I asked.”

“Seung-gil...”

“A chance meeting. I was a cleaner in a Triad bar in Tokyo, and he was completing a deal. He saw the scars on my arms and got curious... and I fell in love.”

Shivering, Otabek rubbed his hand across his face. “Don't tell me he's not a monster...”

“Oh he is... but not to me. He's kept pets for centuries, and only a few were there by choice. I'm under no illusions about what he's capable of.”

“He nearly killed you...”

“I've always wanted to know what it would be like to die... but I didn't _want_ to die. He promised me you could heal me... but he didn't tell me the cost. It seemed perfect... too good to be true, I suppose.” He sighed, passing a hand across his throat as if it were painful to speak, pausing to take a few deep breaths.

“Viktor nearly killed him for doing it... but I was _furious_ with him, and he promised me he'd never go near you again. He promised Viktor too, of course, but that didn't mean anything to him.”

“The others... do they know? That you... you _want_ to be w-with him?”

“I have no idea... based on their reactions to me, probably not. I don't like talking to people... this is the longest conversation I've had all year. Seung-gil forbids talking, so I don't have to.”

“The collar...”

Kenjirou turned it over in his hands, running his fingers along the spikes on the inside that cut and scarred his throat. “My wedding band” he murmured with a smile, and Otabek's jaw fell.

“ _You're married to him?”_

“For two years now. He has a ring, but he wears it on a necklace under his shirt. It's not a good idea to show potential weakness to his contacts.”

“Fuck... this is so fucked up. I was _sure_ you were a victim... I felt _sorry_ for you...”

“I'm sorry, Otabek.” Sighing, the Japanese man rested his hand on his throat and coughed. “I'm exhausted... too much talking. It hurts after so long. Please... I don't expect you to forgive me, but please stop trying to hurt Seung-gil. He knows if he raises a hand against you, Yuri will kill him... but he _will_ defend himself against you. He can't prevent it... his instinct is to survive, no matter the cost.”

Pushing himself off the wall, Otabek crossed to the door. “Every time I think I understand this horror show, I find out I know nothing at all.”

“Perhaps that's the problem... you still want to see things from a human perspective. You'll never understand them by doing that.”

Sliding the collar back into place around his neck and snapping the padlock locked at the back, Kenjirou smiled sadly at him, then followed the nephilim back into the house.

Yuri was curled up on the bed, playing on his phone when Otabek appeared. Watching the nephilim strip out of his clothes and collapse beside him, he paused his game and ran his fingers through his lover's hair. Tired, psychologically drained and still aching with anger, Otabek closed his eyes and sank his fingers into the sheets, his body shivering as he tried to control the emotions burning inside him.

 _I feel like every time I speak to you these days, I'm asking if you're alright. It's exhausting._ Yuri's mental voice was soft but tense, and Otabek opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling.

“Sorry I'm such a _burden_...” the reply was a harsh snap, and Yuri frowned.

 _I just mean... I just wish you'd talk to me, instead of me having to dig it out of you all the time._ Otabek sighed, touching Yuri's knee in mute apology and trying to organise his thoughts.

“I thought this was supposed to be over... covens, Viktor, the other vampires... all of it...”

 _No you didn't... you knew Viktor was still a threat. The Coven is_ definitely _over though, have no fear. This situation is temporary. Emil won't tolerate them in Maine for too long, and he can be_ very _persuasive when he decides its time for someone to leave._

“I'm so fucking _tired_ , Yuri...”

The vampire moved so he was sat on Otabek's hips, but instead of anything overtly sexual, he simply rested his hands on his chest and looked down at him. The candles in the room flickered on his alabaster skin, throwing his features into relief and giving his eyes a soft green glow. He looked like a mobile statue, and the nephilim ran his fingers through his hair, marvelling at his beauty despite the pain churning inside him.

_Do you know how many times I've said that, over the centuries?_

Otabek closed his eyes and tried to fight the urge to cry, abruptly ashamed of himself for showing weakness when he knew how much more Yuri had suffered. He felt fingertips on his cheeks, and knew he'd failed to stop his tears.

_I won't tell you not to cry, or not to feel pain... feel it, every moment of it. Feel it all, and then put it somewhere inside of you. Somewhere dark, and quiet... somewhere deep in your mind. Every time you feel pain, put it with the rest... let it grow, and harden. Trust that it will be there when you need it._

_“_ Is that what you did?”

Yuri leaned down and pressed his lips against Otabek's forehead in a chaste, loving kiss. “For over a century, I suffered in the dark. I forged my pain and hatred into a weapon, and I wielded it against the world for a thousand years... and soon, it will taste the blood of my true enemy.”

“Viktor.”

“Yes. Viktor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always known Kenjirou's backstory, and was always curious to see how people would react to finding out the truth about him... so please let me know in the comments!
> 
> Emil offers gentle hugs to anyone too outraged by the revelations in this chapter <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: conversational references to child abuse, rape, murder, buried alive.
> 
> Apologies for the erratic updating. Creative brain has been wanting to draw for the last few days instead of write... still, I have made [new things!](https://linktr.ee/artofbeccaj)

Viktor watched the door close behind Georgi and sank his claws into his palms, releasing the anger he'd held in check throughout their meeting. Above the reports and Council business, one piece of news brought by the other vampire bored into his mind and burned in his soul. The Coven was meeting again. Nearly three hundred years of protesting, whining and being unbearable about being 'trapped' in the Coven as he had seen it, yet less than a year after kicking Viktor out of the country, Yuri was living with the other four members once more.

Even worse, Yuri's pet abomination seemed to have resolved his differences with the other Coven vampires, and was helping the group actively plan against the head of the family. Fury escalated into something close to blind rage as Viktor remembered the dark nephilim brushing aside his magic, changing form effortlessly to crush the vampire's power and defend his owner.

The remains of Viktor's library were sacred and therefore the shelves were exempt from any fits of temper, so he took his feelings out on the heavy, antique furniture in the room instead. With a scream of fury, he physically lifted the oak desk, throwing it against the fireplace hard enough to crack the marble surround. Unsatisfied with the damage, he unleashed a torrent of raw magic at the floor, leaving a crater in the middle of the room and obliterating the rugs and tiles. As the dust settled and he looked around for more things to break, the security system chimed, alerting him to the arrival of a car at the main door. Yuuri, back from shopping in Moscow.

Cutting off the flow of magic with some difficulty, he exited the room and locked it behind him, hiding the damage from his pet. In the darkness of his mind, another memory of the nephilim had bubbled up... of him curled up in the arms of Viktor's own pet, sobbing in pain and fear after being abused by Seung-gil. Yuuri had been a balm to Otabek, they had been close for over a year. Humans set great store in these things... and Otabek was still at least partly human...

Yuuri was unpacking in the kitchen, and glanced up curiously as Viktor appeared. Something about his lover seemed off; the vampire was unnaturally bright eyed and his body language was radiating tension even though he was trying to act relaxed. Putting the bags down, Yuuri crossed to him and was wrapped in his arms immediately.

“What's the matter?”

His pet was always very perceptive, and Viktor rewarded his question with a sad kiss. “I had some bad news today, my love. I... I don't know how to say it to you...”

“Just tell me” Yuuri straightened, looking into his lover's eyes with a determined frown. “I can take it.”

“It... it's about Yuri and Otabek. T-they're... they're working against us. It's as I suspected.”

Shaking his head as if to deny it, Yuuri's eyes filled with tears. “It must be a mistake... bad information... Wh-what have they done?”

“Yuri has reformed the Coven. Christophe and Seung-gil are living with him and Mila, in Maine.”

“What? That's _impossible_... Otabek _hates_ Seung-gil... there's no way he'd _choose_ to live with them again. Yuri must be forcing him...”

“Otabek is... is not what you remember. He and Yuri are...” Viktor cut his eyes to the side, unsure of how to phrase it. Staring at him, Yuuri felt anger claw its way up inside of him.

“They're lovers” the human said, and Viktor stared at him in surprise.

“H-how did you know?”

“They were together at Georgi's dacha, when they came here before. A-after you exiled Yuri. I found out from the staff there.”

Sitting Yuuri down, Viktor stroked his hair away from his eyes. “You're upset by that... are you jealous? I know you and Otabek were c-close...” he lowered his gaze, as if bracing himself against the possibility of their history together being more intimate.

“Not that! But...” Yuuri shook his head, trying to put words around the sting of betrayal. “After everything that happened... Sophia told me they were... she thought they'd been together a long time. The things they said... the way they were with each other... comfortable, loving...” Narrowing his eyes, Yuuri clenched his fists in anger. “I was so worried about him... about the way Yuri was using him... that he was so alone, with no-one to comfort him... even Phichit tried to... but he always said no, always told us he preferred to be alone.”

“He lied to you?”

“All that time, he was... he was...”

“He was fucking a fifteen year old boy” Viktor said, and watched the colour drain out of Yuuri's face, impressed at the way his pet _still_ had a moral compass, despite everything he'd seen.

“Th-that's not... Yuri's not... I mean, he's... but... he's...”

“He was fifteen when he died” Viktor said, carefully pushing the point. “He told me he'd never been with anyone when he was human... a complete innocent.”

Yuuri's face shifted rapidly between red flushes of embarrassment and pale blotches of outrage as he spoke, and Viktor settled his own expression into one of despair and regret. “He was too young when I made him... but I just didn't want him to die alone in the snow... one of my greatest regrets, was that he suffered _so much_ before he was reborn...”

“ _Otabek knew this?_ ”

“Oh yes... Yuri would have told him. It's one of the reasons he hates me so much... he once told me that being forever a child was one of his greatest frustrations.”

As he watched Yuuri pull away from him and cross the room, hugging himself as he tried to control his emotions, Viktor carefully concealed his smirk. His pet already thought the nephilim was a liar and had betrayed him; unfairly framing him as a child abuser was just adding salt to the wound.

Painting Yuri as an innocent was an obvious falsehood considering the blonde was a thousand year old vampire, but Yuuri was too wound up to think it through. Even as a human, he'd been considered an adult by his society. The tiny viking had been engaged to be married when he died, his wedding due to take place the following spring. Not only that, but he was a raider; he'd made his first kills only days before running into the sorcerer during one of his “experiments”, and still bore the wounds of battle when he died. Raping and pillaging was standard for varangian raids at that time, and Yuri had been determined to prove himself...

Viktor had dug every bit of information about his life out of him, taking pleasure in violating his memories and his history as much as his body over the years before he decided to bury the blonde alive as punishment for his wild behaviour. Yuri as a virginal, innocent human dying in the snow and rescued by the saint-like Viktor was an outlandish fabrication, and yet his pet soaked it up like a sponge. One last push, and the guiless human would be exactly where Vikor wanted him.

“I'm sorry, my love... I didn't want to tell you, but I... I need you to understand why I'm... why I have to send you away...”

“Send me away?” Yuuri spun around and raced back to his side, dropping to his knees in front of him. “You... you can't... you wouldn't... why?? _Why??_ ”

Viktor's eyes were red as he spoke, blood tears slipping down his face. Yuuri brushed them away, his heart aching and his guts churning with hatred as his lover explained that Otabek and Yuri were planning to try and kill him, and he was terrified that they would go after Yuuri to weaken him.

“Otabek knows what you mean to me... he... he knows how much I love you. I _never_ thought they would do something like this... otherwise I would have sent you home to Japan when we left Alaska...”

“ _No!_ Don't you _dare_ say that!” Yuuri grabbed Viktor's shoulders, shaking him as hard as he could. “I'm _never_ leaving you... not ever! You... you're worried about me being hurt because I'm weak... because I'm _human_. Right?”

Viktor snuffled back tears and nodded, looking down into Yuuri's furious brown eyes. “Either of them could hurt you... or kill you... you know what Otabek is, how much power he has...”

“Do you love me, Viktor?”

The human's voice became hard and uncompromising, and Viktor gazed at him with soft, sad affection. “You know I do.”

“Do you want me with you?”

“Of course my love... more than anything else!”

Yuuri dropped to his knees and took Viktor's hands, pressing his lips against his knuckles. The vampire bit back a savage grin as he saw the determination in his lover's eyes, knowing his manipulations had once again put Yuuri Katsuki exactly where he wanted him to be; making the decision Viktor wanted and thinking it was all his own choice.

“Prove you love me, Viktor. Give me the strength to stay with you, and fight beside you.” Taking a deep breath, Yuuri put his arms around Viktor's neck and watched as shock and hope registered on the vampire's face.

“Give me the gift Yuri has taken for granted. I'll never leave you, or hurt you... and I'll protect you with everything I have.”

“A... are you asking...”

“I'm asking you to turn me into a vampire, Viktor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O_o


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: blood drinking, implied character death

Otabek awoke to the sound of screaming. It took a few moments for the last echoes to die away, and he stared around the suite wide eyed and terrified until he realised his throat hurt, and the screams had come from his own mouth. The sheets were soaked with sweat and gathered around his legs, as if he'd been flailing in his sleep. His hands ached, covered in rapidly fading bruises that told him he'd struck something repeatedly. Guilt washed over him as he saw the crumpled form of his vampire on the floor, where he'd kicked and punched the helpless, unconscious figure out of the bed.

Picking Yuri up and tucking him back under the sheets, he confirmed there was no damage to the blonde and then listlessly wandered into the shower. As he scrubbed his hair clean of sweat, he thought back over the dream which had startled him awake with his own screams. Leaning against the cold tiles, he closed his eyes as the visions flooded him again, blood red and seething with despair.

_A light snow swirls around the building, ice crystals dancing in the wind. Inside, a single point of light draws his vision to the figure staring at the darkening sky. Yuuri Katsuki watches the sun go down, dressed only in jeans, his torso bare. Otabek can see the dense scar tissue on his throat, chest and his wrists; mute evidence of his status as a vampire's pet. He lights a single candle as the last rays disappear, then waits._

_The door opens and Viktor steps into the room carrying two bottles of blood, closing and locking the door behind him as he enters. Yuuri does not turn, instead he rests his fingers on the glass as if saying farewell to the last faint blush of sunlight._

_“Are you ready?” Viktor's voice is soft, loving and yet nervous, as if worried about the answer. Yuuri moves to the bed in the middle of the room and sits down, watching as his vampiric owner places the bottles of blood to be warmed._

_“Yes” he says, and Viktor joins him on the bed, sitting behind him, he brushes his fingers across the scars on his throat._

_“This will hurt” he says, and Otabek frowns. Why would Viktor want to hurt his pet?_

_“I know. Do it.”_

_When Viktor bites, Otabek knows there is something badly, deeply wrong. A vampire can choose how to bite; a soft, light invasion of fangs will cause overwhelming, orgasmic pleasure in most cases, but a deep, powerful bite will cause agony and massive damage, as well as quick blood loss. As Viktor bares his fangs and bites hard into the muscle of Yuuri's neck, the human clenches his teeth to bite back his scream and sinks his fingers into the vampire's thigh as agony whips through him._

_Helplessly, Otabek watches as Viktor pulls draught after draught out of his lover, and when Yuuri's eyes roll back in his head and the strength goes out of his arms, the nephilim begins to shout and flail, uselessly trying to pull Viktor away before he drains the human dry... but they are seven thousand miles away, and Otabek is only dreaming, and there's nothing he can do. As Yuuri's chest stills and his body slumps, held up only by Viktor's arm around his waist, Otabek weeps, falling to his knees on the floor._

_As Yuuri draws his last breath and his heart fails, Viktor lays him back on the bed, smoothing his hair and resting his arms across his chest in a parody of burial. He blows out the candle, plunging the room into complete darkness, but Otabek knows both he and the vampire can see clearly. Watching the human for a few moments, Viktor's expression is a horrible mixture of satisfaction and cruelty. Otabek snarls at him as the vampire watches the dead body of his friend, hatred boiling inside him._

_When Viktor runs a claw across his own wrist, Otabek cries out in horror. Viscous, black blood pools on his skin and he leans down, allowing a few drops to fall onto Yuuri's mouth. The thick liquid rests on the pale, drained lips for a moment, before soaking into the flesh and sending black lines darting in every direction, tracing the path of veins and arteries. Viktor's wrist heals almost instantly, and he steps away from the bed as Yuuri's body begins to twitch and writhe._

_Otabek watches in bafflement until Yuuri's eyes flick open. He sees the black lines snake across his irises, and the beautiful deep brown colour is touched with an unnatural inner glow. A chill begins to radiate from his body, and the bite wound in his shoulder heals over, the last scars that will ever mark his flesh. As Yuuri arches from the bed and his body shudders, he opens his mouth to unleash an eerie, high pitched scream and Otabek can see his canines lengthening._

_Backing away from his friend, Otabek's terror and grief claws inside his throat as Yuuri's uncontrolled flailing slowly subsides and he falls back onto the bed. Viktor watches silently for long minutes before he stirs again, and pushes himself upright. Wrapping his arms around himself, he stares at the room and Otabek knows he can see just as clearly as Viktor. Brushing his fingertips over his throat, he seems astonished to find his wounds healed._

_“V-Viktor... cold... h-hungry...”_

_As the silver haired Russian crosses to the bed with a bottle of warm blood and hands it to his newest child, the nephilim begins whimpering, his throat locked with horror. When Yuuri raises the bottle and drinks deeply, an expression of bliss crossing his face at the taste of human blood, Otabek finally finds his voice and begins to scream..._

It was unusual for Otabek not to be next to him in bed when he woke up, and Yuri immediately knew something was wrong. He could feel the nephilim nearby, distress flowing through the link between them. Ignoring the sting of hunger for now, Yuri went in search of his lover, finding him in the lounge of their suite, sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around himself, staring into the distance. As the vampire sat beside him he flinched, turning a hunted gaze on the blonde.

“Otabek...”

“Check on Yuuri. Now.”

“You know I can't see hi...”

“Ask the twins then. _Find him, Yuri_.”

The urgency of his lover was enough to make Yuri grab his phone and ring through to Moscow on the encrypted line immediately. Putting Antoine on speaker, he rested his hand on Otabek's shoulder and stroked the tense muscles of his throat as his lover instructed the Frenchman. As Yuri listened, understanding slowly dawned about the root of Otabek's fear, and his eyes widened with horror.

“Yuuri Katsuki... he's one of the hu... he's living at Viktor's dacha outside Moscow. Can you... I don't know, see him somehow? Satellite, or whatever... I know you have eyes on the place...”

“We've got a team monitoring 24/7, it'll take a few minutes to get a message to th...”

“Do it. Now. I need to know... just find out if he's still there... if he's still alive.”

Silence for a few moments, and then Antoine returned. “I've sent the message... last reports from the team came in last night, they reported seeing Viktor and Yuuri out in the garden... oh. That's weird.”

“What is it?” Otabek's voice was strained, hopeless.

“It doesn't make a lot of sense... it says they were out in the garden together for several hours... but there was eight inches of snow last night in that region, and it was minus 20 degrees. Viktor would have been fine of course, but Yuuri... it must be an error on the report.”

Closing his eyes, the nephilim buried his face in his hands, murmuring something that sounded like a prayer. Resting his cheek against Otabek's shoulder, Yuri wrapped an arm around him.

“Otabek... where's this coming from?” the blonde asked, as they waited for a report from Antoine's team.

“I... I had a dream... Viktor... he...”

“Otabek? I've got a report coming in now. Yuuri's fine, he's in the dacha with Viktor...”

“Does he... what are they doing?”

“Sitting talking in the lounge... hang on... oh. Oh shit. Otabek...”

“Tell me...”

There was a difficult pause, and then Antoine spoke, his voice carefully neutral. “They're sitting in the dark, and they're both d-drinking from Viktor's supplies...”

With a scream of rage, Otabek threw the phone across the room, shattering it into pieces. Wrapping his arms around the shaking nephilim, Yuri desperately tried to calm him down, the amount of hatred for vampires coming through the bond scaring him. Pulling himself out of Yuri's embrace, Otabek staggered to his feet, his eyes wild and his breathing ragged. The grief and rage was overwhelming him, and Yuri could feel it like waves crashing into his body and mind.

“Otabek... Otabek please... you have to calm down... I'm so sorry, so so sorry... but you _have_ to calm down...”

Dodging as Otabek kicked the small coffee table apart, Yuri tried again to get through to the heartbroken nephilim. He could sense a darkness building inside his lover, as if Otabek were unconsciously drawing and holding power; it was being pulled from everywhere, including the blonde's own body. The telltale exhaustion stole over Yuri, exactly as it had in the manor when Otabek used black magic to tear down Viktor's wards. In his fury, the nephilim was gathering power to lash out, but his target was thousands of miles away and his rage had nothing to unleash upon.

“Otabek... p-please!” Yuri ducked as the nephilim threw the sofa across the room, his strength boosted by the dark power building inside him. His face was contorted with rage, and his eyes had become silver pools. Backing out of the room, Yuri could hear the rest of the house beginning to respond to the noise from their suite. Momentary panic set in and Yuri dashed out of the suite, slamming the door behind him and pressing himself against the fragile wood as Otabek began destroying everything in sight.

Christophe reached the blonde as Otabek ran out of things to break and began tearing apart the suite itself. The door shuddered in its frame and then exploded, throwing Yuri into the other vampire as Otabek appeared. The nephilim's skin was bone white and he was wrapped in a dark smog, tendrils of blackness shifting around him like a localised storm cloud.

The vampires clung to each other for a moment as they stared at him, then self preservation kicked in as he turned silver eyes to them and curled his lip in a snarl. Bolting downstairs, they found Seung-gil and Mila in the lounge, the humans of the household hiding in the corridor leading to the front door.

“Out... get out!” Christophe waved a frantic hand to set them all moving as the nephilim destroyed the staircase, landing on his knees in the middle of the room. Cries of shock and horror erupted from the humans at the sight of him and they fled out the front door. Staring at the transformed nephilim, Mila cursed under her breath.

“ _What the hell happened Yuri... why... he looks...”_

“Otabek... listen to me!” the blonde yelled, standing in front of Otabek and drawing his lover's attention away from the others. “Please... please... you have to calm down...”

Alabaster skin was visible through the swirling smoke, and huge, feathered black wings spread out behind him, scraping holes in the walls and ceiling as they filled the room. Obsidian horns curved from his forehead, his eyes silver pools as he stared at the blonde. Yuri could still feel the power being pulled from his body, weakness and pain seeping into his limbs.

Trying to make contact with Otabek's thoughts, Yuri gasped as he found nothing but churning, seething hatred and hunger overwhelming his lover's conscious mind completely. It reminded him of an arctic blizzard, howling over the tundra and obliterating everything stupid enough to get in the way. That hunger was directed at the blonde, the vampires and the humans cowering nearby... the flicker of their souls calling like a beacon to the mindless beast his lover had become, torn from sanity by grief and horror.

“He's... he's not in there...” staring into the silver eyes of his nephilim, Yuri felt terror wash over him as he backed away, and Otabek prowled towards him, growling in fury. The bond between them had become leaden and dull, as his lover's consciousness fell silent.

“Get... get out of this house... or he'll kill every last one of you” Yuri moaned, and the vampires bolted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh noooo... can Yuri get Otabek back???


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: descriptions of violence, injury

Glancing over his shoulder was a mistake. As Yuri threw a look behind him to make sure the other vampires had cleared the house, Otabek roared and made a grab for him. Faster than any human, he wasn't as fast as the vampire but Yuri was distracted. Long, inky black talons sank into the meat of Yuri's throat as the enraged nephilim grappled him. Unable to break the hold without hurting his lover, Yuri hung from his grasp and focused on trying to reach Otabek's consciousness, throwing wave after wave of silent thought into the fog that enveloped his mind.

Somewhere underneath that darkness, Yuri knew his lover was trapped; unable or unwilling to come back to his body. Pain, grief, hopelessness... Yuri knew first hand how tempting it was to just float, to let the body suffer and stay separate, untouched. The bond between their souls was a heavy, dull ache that anchored them together, lifeless now that Otabek's mind was buried under the weight of the rage consuming him.

With a growl, the nephilim hurled his lover across the room, sending him crashing through a couch and into the wall. Discovering he could manage _some_ of the pain he was experiencing, Yuri shut down his nerves as his spine and ribs cracked from the impact. Only the pain he received from the nephilim's talons and blows was out of his control, but repairing his body took a different toll. Desperately healing damage as fast as he could, Yuri fought against himself; he was already hungry, and forcing himself to heal was starving him. The scent of the nephilim was registering as _food,_ but alongside that was the instinctual reaction to being attacked... a red mist trying to descend, to hurtle him into uncontrolled rage...

Yuri's eyes widened as understanding rocked him and he gasped, barely managing to dodge the next blow in his shock. His eyes narrowed as a plan began to form, and he leaped across the room towards the nephilim, ducking under his grasping hands and punching him as hard as he could in the face.

The blow threw Otabek into the opposite wall and he sagged, extending his wings for balance and destroying the kitchen behind him. Yuri followed it with another punch, to the stomach this time, and doubled the nephilim over. Hitting him was risky; with his vampiric strength there was real danger of beating him to death by accident, which would kill both of them. But knocking the person unconscious was the only way Yuri knew to stop a berserker rage... he'd experienced it often enough himself.

Savage, unstoppable warriors, norse berserkers were rare and usually died young. Yuri had been physically small, but his father had recognised the signs when he'd been hurt during a hunt and the thirteen year old proceeded to tear the offending boar apart with his bare hands. Building up his strength and stamina, by the age of fifteen, Yuri was ready for battle. His last act as a human had been to unleash his rage upon the vampire responsible for the death of his family.

The bond between the vampire and nephilim had caused their personalities to bleed into each other; Yuri found himself caring about the people around them and discovered a sense of calm and patience alien to him. In contrast, Otabek's temper had grown shorter, and he had become more desensitised to suffering. Yuri knew these changes upset him; part of his grief was for _himself;_ the nephilim feared his own descent into darkness.

Now, watching Otabek pushing himself upright from the blows Yuri was raining on his body, the vampire knew his lover's mind was silent and lost behind the wall of fury of a berserk rage. Feeling no pain or fear, he wouldn't stop until everything around him was destroyed, he was knocked out or he collapsed with exhaustion, whichever happened first. Kicking Otabek back into the wall, Yuri threw another punch at his torso, aiming to wind him and knock him down. If he could get the nephilim into a headlock, he could choke him out without risking too much damage to the Kazakh...

With a snarl, Otabek blocked the punch and Yuri cried out as talons sank into his arm, wrenching his shoulder and forcing him to the ground. Eyes red with unshed blood tears, Yuri gripped Otabek's wrist and prepared to break his arm to get out of the hold. He froze as he looked up into his lovers blank, silver eyes, the guilt of the damage he'd already inflicted upon the nephilim rooting him in place and freezing his limbs. In that moment of hesitation, Otabek struck.

Yuri's vision went white as talons slammed into his chest and curled around his heart, preparing to tear it from his body. As the agony of the near fatal blow rolled over him, the vampire sagged, dark, viscous fluids flowing from his eyes and mouth. His scream of terror and pain was cut off as he choked on his own blood.

The cry was echoed by the nephilim, who released the vampire as the same pain washed over him. As the damage to the vampire started to heal, Otabek dropped him and collapsed beside him, his demonic visage blowing away like smoke as he screamed in agony. As the silver drained from his eyes, consciousness returned and he wrapped his arms around himself, shuddering with pain.

“Y-Yuri... Yuri! Wh-what happened... ahhhh fuck... it hurts! Yuri!”

Groaning, the vampire rolled onto his side and pressed his hand against the healing wounds on his torso as he reached for the nephilim. Otabek was terrified and confused, clutching at himself as he tried to understand why he wasn't bleeding despite his body reporting that he'd just nearly been eviscerated. Pulling himself up against the remains of a couch, Yuri dragged his lover into his arms as they lay on the floor.

“It's... it's OK... it's over... j-just rest for now.”

The scent of the nephilim was nearly overwhelming the starving vampire, but he knew there was no chance of him holding back if he went anywhere near a living creature. He needed blood, but the house was trashed, along with any supplies. Desperate and unwilling to risk using any of his powers while starving, he did the only thing he could; he called for Emil.

  
  


By the time Emil and Michele arrived at the remains of the house, things were largely under control, with the exception of the starving vampire clutching his nephilim in the middle of the lounge. Otabek had passed out from pain, and Yuri had used an almost forgotten skill to force himself into a trance-like state to control his hunger. Seung-gil had used his military and police contacts to deal with the human response to the nearly total destruction of the upper floors of the house, and Christophe had arranged for alternative accommodation for the vampires, setting up specialist hotel rooms around the city.

Pressing a cold bottle into Yuri's hand, Emil uncorked it and hastily backed away as the starving vampire drained it dry in moments. Four bottles later, and Yuri's hunger had reduced enough for him to be able to talk.

“What the hell happened?”

Opening his eyes, Yuri gazed around the room and wondered how much to say. All the vampires and their pets were there, and Otabek had just woken up and was curled up with his head in Yuri's lap, eyes closed as he listened to the conversations around them. Stroking Otabek's hair, he decided that they deserved to know.

“We got some bad news... Otabek went... berserk.”

Emil raised an eyebrow, knowing that Yuri wouldn't use that word lightly. “Actually berserk?”

“Yes... I think he's picking up on my traits through the b-bond. And I'm getting some of his...”

“My god.” Emil stared around at the devastation and shook his head. “I wondered once what it would look like in the modern world. Now I know.”

“He was a monster” Christophe murmured, and the rest of the room made various noises of agreement.

“It was just like at the coven house” Mila wrinkled her nose unhappily, “except he was... there was so much hatred in him.”

“He transformed?” Emil raised an eyebrow as Mila nodded, and turned back to Yuri. “What _caused_ this? Don't tell me he just snapped and did all this...”

“No... he had a dream... and it turned out to be true.” Focusing on the pets, Yuri winced and shook his head. “I'm... I'm so sorry... but you all deserve to know. Yuuri Katsuki is dead... Viktor made him into a vampire.”

The shocked silence was broken by a wail from Phichit, and Christophe immediately drew his sorrowing pet into his arms, his expression bleak. Michele and Sara clung to each other, and Kenjirou sagged against Seung-gil, the vampire resting his hand against his pets back wordlessly. Mila gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as she stared at Otabek, while the nephilim hunched further in on himself with a soft whimper of distress.

“ _Why would he do that”_ Michele managed to snarl, and Yuri shook his head.

“The most likely reason is to use him as a punishment... and as a shield. He knows Otabek and Yuuri were close... he knows the pain this would cause Otabek. Plus, he's probably banking on Otabek not being able to face hurting or killing Yuuri... while he can make Yuuri attack any of us freely.”

“Yuuri would never do that...”

“He won't have a choice” Yuri shook his head, cutting off Michele's protest. “Viktor is an expert at puppeting his children, using their bodies as if they were extensions of himself. Trust me” he added bitterly, “I know first-hand what he's capable of.”

“He's right” Otabek's voice sounded broken, as if he were trying to talk through a throat of cut glass, and Yuri fretted over him as he sat up. Refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the room, he rested his head on Yuri's shoulder, too weak to do much more than pull himself to a sitting position. “I won't lay a hand on him... I'd let him kill me first.”

“It won't matter if you're _berserk_ ” Christophe growled, and Otabek closed his eyes.

“I don't want this to happen again” he murmured, and Yuri nodded.

“How _did_ this happen?” Seung-gil's voice was harsh, and the others looked at him curiously. “The lore is clear... Yuri should have been able to control him...”

“The lore isn't worth the paper it's written on” Yuri said, shaking his head. “Speculation from vampires who've never experienced the bond, based on their subjective observations. Everything I've read is either misunderstood, or just plain fabrication.” Ignoring Seung-gil's shocked expression, he looked down sadly at his lover, who was drifting off into an exhausted sleep again. “And I know why” he added, “no vampire who experienced this would ever tell another the truth of it.”

“Why not?” Seung-gil asked, bemused.

Gazing at the nephilim in his arms, Yuri brushed away bloody tears, his voice soft. “To form the bond, a vampire and a nephilim have to fall in love with each other. There's no other way... and I would die before I gave away any of our secrets.”


	18. Chapter 18

“You should stay with me.”

Mila glanced up in surprise at the offer. Emil gave her a tiny smile and a deliberate nod to the twins. Since Yuri had broken the news about Viktor's pet, the pair hadn't left each others sides; holding hands, they were sat on the wall outside the house waiting for a taxi. Sara hadn't stopped crying, she was resting her head on Michele's shoulder shaking with nearly silent sobs. Michele's face was alarmingly blank, his violet eyes clouded. They were both devastated, and drawing comfort from each other.

“You're willing to tolerate another vampire in your home?” Mila shook her head in disbelief, and Emil pulled a face.

“I can cope for a few days. Although I can't promise to be too sociable. It doesn't seem right to separate them at the moment.”

“Thank you, Emil. That's very kind of you” Mila smiled, watching as Christophe and Phichit snagged the first taxi to arrive at the shattered house.

“I'll get Yuri and Otabek to their hotel, then come back to the house. Michele has a key, you three go ahead and get settled in.”

Neither Yuri or Otabek were capable of walking unaided, so Emil looped an arm around Otabek's waist and hitched Yuri into the crook of his arm like a child, ignoring the weary vampire's protests. Folding all three of them into a taxi, he began to give the address Christophe had set up, but Yuri inturrupted, reeling off an address in the suburbs on the other side of the city.

“What's this?”

“You don't really think I'd go somewhere one of the others had set up, do you?”

“You're so paranoid, Yuri.”

“How do you think I've lived this long?”

The address Yuri had given turned out to be a basement studio flat; light proof, with a secluded, hidden entrance set back off the street. Lightly furnished, it had every appearance of a safe house, and Emil said so.

“That's exactly what it is.” Yuri left Otabek curled up on the couch and leaned on the kitchen unit. The flat was tiny, only two rooms and a bathroom. “We'll stay here until the house is fixed up... the twins are on it, it shouldn't take much longer than a week.”

“I'll ask Michele to help supervise the rebuild, I know he's got experience with keeping workmen in line.”

“Thanks. I've got supplies arriving tomorrow night, until then...”

Emil placed a bag on the counter-top, opening it to reveal the last few bottles of blood. “Knock yourself out. You still look like you're starving.”

“I am... from Otabek pulling power out of me and then the healing... I haven't felt this hungry for centuries.”

Emil patted him on the shoulder understandingly. “Drink, rest, try not to eat the nephilim. I'll look after the others.”

“Emil... be careful with Christophe and Seung-gil. Don't trust either of them.”

“You're not going to warn me about Mila as well?”

Yuri shrugged. “She's going to be your sister in law eventually, so you're on your own there.” Emil laughed and headed for the door, shutting it and letting the bushes outside fall back into place, concealing the entrance to the flat even more.

Draining another two bottles, Yuri carefully set aside one for the next evening and sent a message to the twins highlighting the importance of an early evening delivery. His emergency phone and survival kit had been in the steel safe under the bed and had survived Otabek's rampage, and Mila's abilities had made short work of digging it out of the rubble and bringing the entire safe to the blonde.

Turning the phone off to save battery, he locked everything away in the safe in the new flat. Otabek was asleep already, still dusty and stained with blood and debris from their ordeal. Picking the nephilim up carefully to avoid waking him, Yuri carried him into the bathroom and removed the remains of his clothing before placing him in the tub and turning on the shower. The exhausted nephilim didn't wake, even when Yuri gently washed plaster dust out of his hair.

Once he was clean, the vampire carried him to the bed and tucked him under the sheets. Knowing that his lover would wake disoriented and afraid, Yuri placed his leather jacket over his shoulders, giving him something familiar to cling to while the vampire was unconscious during the day. It was the only other thing he'd salvaged from the house.

Stripping out of his own bloody, shredded clothes, Yuri stood under the shower for nearly an hour, letting the water wash away the horror of the evening. He could feel the bond between Otabek and himself, strong and vibrant again now Otabek's mind was awake. Unwilling to push either of them any further, still he spent long minutes familiarising himself how it felt; his awareness of it stronger than he'd ever felt before, even after the strain of his trip to New York.

Eventually, the approaching sunrise forced him out of the shower and into the bedroom. Towelling off his hair, he wrapped himself in a thick woollen dressing gown and curled up behind Otabek, tucking his arms and legs around his nephilim as the death-like sleep of day overwhelmed him.

Awakening shortly before sundown, Otabek groaned as his entire body protested at moving. Finding himself buried under both his leather jacket and an unconscious vampire, he lay on his back and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, listening to rain pattering on the window. His thoughts drifted, memories of the previous evening scattered and disconnected as he tried to make sense of things. Yuri's aura flared as he woke up, and Otabek murmured softly, unwilling to even consider moving again. His body felt wrecked, every muscle and joint aching and sore.

“I can't remember what happened.”

Yuri's voice was thick, his throat dry from the hours of disuse during the day. “You don't need to...”

“I hurt you.”

Shifting his position, Yuri pressed his lips against Otabek's shoulder and wound their fingers together.

“I hurt you too.”

“You did?”

“I hit you... I kicked you... I nearly broke your arm.”

“I attacked you... it's like flashes, I can only see bits...”

“I love you.”

Otabek stared down at the vampire, baffled by the change of subject. “I... I know? What does that have to do with...”

“It's the only thing you need to know... the only thing that matters. I love you.”

An urge to hug the blonde made Otabek flex his arm, and he groaned with pain. “Gods, I hurt so much...”

Yuri sat up, taking both of Otabek's hands. “You're healing slowly... more slowly than usual.”

“I'm so tired... it's harder when I'm exhausted, or upset. It seems to slow things down.”

“Use my power. I'll be getting a fresh delivery in a few minutes, I can take it.”

“No.”

Yuri frowned, tilting his head to one side. “No?”

“No. Not... not until we can control it properly. I... I don't want anything like last night to happen again. Ever.”

Stroking Otabek's hair, the vampire sighed and nodded. “I understand... I don't agree, but I understand.” Glancing up as a small buzz indicated someone was at the main entrance upstairs, he slipped off the bed and kissed his lover briefly. “Get some more sleep, I'll make you breakfast once I've collected mine.”

Checking in with the twins while Otabek ate, Yuri requested updates on the location of the rest of the vampires, based on their financial activities. Amused, he put Antoine on speaker.

“None of you went anywhere near the hotel rooms Christophe set up. Including Christophe.”

“That's hilarious. We're all so paranoid. Where are the others now?”

“Mila's staying with Emil in his town house, Christophe ended up in the Hilton, and Seung-gil's disappeared entirely. The best I can say is that he's not anywhere that requires ID or electronic payment.”

“He's probably gone underground completely.”

“Underground?”

“There are always habitations underground, and Seung-gil has contacts in most of them. Communities of lost people, as well as havens for various supernatural nasties. Any city with a decent sewer system has them, anywhere in the world.”

“Wow. I never expected to be learning new things at my age.”

Yuri rested his chin on his hands. “Emil trusted Mila in his home, that's impressive. I guess they didn't want to separate the twins.”

“The work crews have started on the house, apparently Michele met them there and is giving them hell already.”

“Good, he knows what he's doing. It'll keep him distracted as well.”

“Antoine... I need you to do something for me” Otabek set his empty plate aside and took Yuri's hand across the table.

“Anything. What do you need?”

“I... I need you to monitor Yuuri. Closely. I... I need to know if he h-hurts anyone.”

“Otabek...” Yuri protested, and the nephilim shook his head.

“Yuuri would never hurt anyone on purpose. No matter what he's become... if he does, it means either Viktor's making him, or starving him until he has no choice. I... I need to know what Viktor's _doing_ to him.”

“Alright... just... don't expect too much. Being new... the hunger... it overrides everything.”

Nodding, Otabek ended the call and crossed back to the bed, tugging Yuri with him and folding the blonde into his arms. “I understand... but I still need to _know._ ”

“How are you feeling after some food?”

“Sore... aching everywhere, and I feel like I got stabbed in the chest. Will you please tell me what happened?”

Yuri bit his lip for a moment, then rolled so he was kneeling on top of the nephilim, resting his weight on his hips, thighs either side of his torso. “On one condition.”

“What? Although... I hurt far too much for sex, you should know that now.”

“Hah. Like that would stop you” Yuri chuckled, wriggling against his lover's already firming length and getting a pained groan. “That's not the condition, anyway.”

“Then what?”

“If I tell you what you did, you have to promise not to hate yourself, or lose your temper.”

“How can I promise that? I don't know what you're going to say...”

“Assume the worst, then make the promise.”

Lacing his fingers through Yuri's, the nephilim nodded. “I promise.”

“You tried to rip my heart out.”

Sitting bolt upright, Otabek growled in pain as he grabbed Yuri's hips to stop him from spilling off his lap. “ _I did fucking what???”_

“You promised...” Yuri frowned at him, pushing him back down and pinning him to the bed gently.

“How... what...”

“I think it's what broke you out of it, in the end.” Yuri leaned down, pressing kisses over Otabek's clenched jaw. “The pain... it was if we both felt it at the same time. I lost consciousness briefly, but when I came back you were on the floor next to me, screaming. I healed my damage, but you felt the pain of it for hours afterwards. I don't know why.”

“Punishment... for nearly killing you...”

“Rubbish...” Yuri frowned, thinking back to their crisis after his trip to New York. “After you got sick, when I was away... when I got back... I felt as drained and weak as you, and I knew I'd taken too much. It's like a warning... when we get too close... too close to death... we both feel it.”

“Good to know” Otabek shivered, tilting his chin unconsciously to invite more soft kisses. Yuri smiled and obliged, pressing his lips against the corner of the nephilim's mouth.

“What happened to not wanting sex?” the blonde asked as he felt fingers trail down his chest and dip between his thighs. Otabek grunted and captured Yuri's lips, snaking his tongue into his mouth in answer.

Returning the kiss, Yuri wriggled out of his dressing gown and blindly hunted through the side table drawer for the lube he'd noticed earlier. The twins really did think of everything; he suspected they had a checklist for his accommodation that they ran through whenever he needed a new place.

Whimpering as he twitched beneath the blonde's hips, Otabek moaned as cold, slick fingers worked their magic. Despite the physical discomfort and his emotional turmoil, Yuri's touch never failed to make him hard and aching in minutes, easing the suffering of his mind and body with sensual pleasure. Snuggling down into the pillows, Otabek groaned as the vampire eased down around him.

“F-fuck... a-are you OK?”

“Y-yeah... as long as I don't move too much...”

Yuri chuckled, arching forwards and resting his weight on the headboard. “Just lie back and enjoy, my love” he purred, wriggling his hips and gasping in pleasure with each motion on Otabek's buried cock.

Using his leverage against the headboard, Yuri set a slow, deliberate pace, twitching his hips with each thrust and groaning at the pressure inside him. Raising his knees, Otabek arched against him a few times then stopped, forced to lie still from the pain of too much movement. The pleasure from Yuri's movements washed over him in waves, leaving him gasping as he dug his fingers into the sheets.

“Y-Yuri... ahhh... k-kiss me... p-please...”

The vampire bent and shifted his weight onto the pillows, pushing his cold tongue into his lovers mouth as he increased his speed. Soaring towards climax, Otabek cried out, his voice muffled by their kiss. Yuri wrapped his fingers around himself, stroking his way into his own climax as he felt the nephilim release and arch up against him, whimpering at the mixture of pleasure and pain. As they subsided and curled up against each other, Otabek murmured drowsily.

“You're right... the only thing that matters is that you love me... as much as I love you.” Yuri smiled, purring happily, his lover clutching him tighter as he fell asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

It took a week to repair the damage to the house, refurnish and restock it for the vampires and move everyone back in. Yuri and Otabek spent most of that time in the flat, enjoying a brief period of solitude. The only person who knew their location was Emil, and he knew Yuri well enough to leave them alone as much as possible. In between long naps and frequent lovemaking, the pair talked in detail about everything that had happened since they returned from Russia. They'd spoken at length about the bond before, but this time there was an urgency to their conversation; attempting to understand more about their connection was the first step to learning to control how they drew power from each other.

By the time they moved back into the house with the others, they had advanced to practising accessing each other's abilities through the bond, as well as _closing off_ access to each other at will. Yuri knew stopping Otabek from drawing on his power was key to preventing another rampage, and the nephilim never wanted to experience that mindless fugue state again. That last skill was much more difficult, as it seemed to directly oppose what felt natural to both of them.

Beyond that, Otabek dreaded facing the rest of the household, especially the humans. The vampires were all aware of his heritage, but the only human from the coven who'd known was Yuuri... oh, but thinking about Yuuri hurt far too much. Even Phichit avoided the subject; the usually bubbly Thai refused to meet anyone's gaze, and his eyes were red from crying. Everyone else was subdued and quiet, lost in dark thoughts much of the time.

With the exception of Kenjirou, the humans were wary around Otabek, clearly confused and scared about what they had seen. It took a few days of being back under the same roof before any of them spoke up, and of course, it was Michele who raised the subject. The feisty Italian reached the limit of his patience and snapped while the humans were eating dinner.

Snagging a plate from the kitchen, Otabek tried to hide in the corner while he ate, ducking his head to prevent eye contact. Emil was the only vampire in the lounge, curled up on the couch reading. He and Michele had been guesting at the house since the rebuild, helping Sara and Mila settle back in and generally keeping an eye on things. After a few minutes of Michele glaring at him, he risked a glance up and met a fierce violet gaze.

“Alright, that's enough.”

Everyone looked up as Michele spoke, putting his food aside and folding his arms across his chest. Emil winced, tucking his nose back into his book in an attempt to disappear. Realising he was about to get interrogated, Otabek gave in to a rare moment of cowardice and silently called to Yuri for help.

“No-one else has the balls to talk to you, and I'm fed up with silence. When we left Alaska, we were supposed to be getting away from secrets and all this 'magic' bullshit.”

Yuri appeared in the doorway, his face already set in a frown at the sight of Otabek hunching in the corner. Michele clicked his tongue, and shook his head. “Stick up for him all you like, I'm still asking the question. _What the fuck happened with you last week?”_

“It's none of your business” Yuri said easily, leaning on the wall next to Otabek and resting his hands on his hips aggressively. Emil tried even harder to disappear behind his book, and Michele narrowed his eyes.

“Mila seems to know what's going on. So does Emil. The other two are also fine with things, but none of them are talking to _us_. So what, are we supposed to just play nicely, and act like nothing happened??”

“I don't see why not... or don't you trust Emil? Do you think he'd leave you in danger?”

“Yuri...” Otabek's voice was quiet, and Michele glared at him. “T-they deserve to know...”

“No. It's not their business... and anything you tell them, you might as well tell Christophe and Seung-gil as well. Do you want that?”

“No... but...”

“If you don't like living in my house, Michele, you know what you can do about it” Yuri said irritably, and Emil winced again.

Staring at him in silent fury, Michele clenched his fists. “So you're going to control me just like Viktor did... using Sara against me... is that it?”

Yuri snarled and Emil straightened up, putting his hand on Michele's shoulder gently. “Let's not say anything we'll regret” he murmured, trying to soothe the situation. Instead, he got the full force of the human's glare.

“If he won't tell me... I _know_ you know...”

“No... Michele, please...” Emil's voice was shocked, and his eyes filled with tears as the Italian stared at him. Beside Otabek, Yuri's growl abruptly shifted gears, becoming a clear warning.

“Don't you dare...” the blonde started, and Michele turned back to him with triumph in his eyes. The rest of the humans stared at each other in bafflement as Yuri narrowed his eyes.

“Tell me the truth, and I won't have to” he responded, as Emil buried his face in his hands, shaking his head.

“Would you really be _that_ cruel?”

“ _I want to know what I'm living with”_ the Italian snarled, pointing a finger at Otabek. “Vampires are bad enough, but _that?_ He turned into a _monster_ , we all saw it. He looked like a... a...”

“Demon” Otabek murmured, and Yuri snarled in protest. “I know what it looked like. You must have been t-terrified.”

“You're _not_ a demon” Yuri retorted, and Otabek stared up at him.

“No... I'm not. Not yet...”

Sinking down next to him, Yuri gripped his shoulders gently. “ _Never going to happen”_ he replied, and Otabek lowered his eyes.

“They deserve to know the truth, Yuri. We need help from the others, which means _they_ have to live with _me.”_

Groaning, Yuri leaned against the wall and shook his head. “Fine... but just the basics. They don't need details.”

As they spoke, Michele turned back to Emil, his expression soft. “I'm sorry... I wouldn't have asked you, you know that right?”

“W-why did you say it then?”

“I wanted to put Yuri on the spot. I'm sorry.”

Shaking his head, Emil took Michele's hand and lowered his eyes, wiping away the red streaks of tears from his cheeks. “You scared me... I don't know what I'd do if you broke your promise.”

Murmuring soft apologies, Michele tucked the vampire into his arms, ignoring the confused stares from the others. Yuri glared at him, then shook his head. “I should have known you wouldn't do it” he growled, “but Otabek's made up his mind. You win.”

As he explained, Otabek remembered having a similar conversation with Yuuri less than a year ago. The memory of the Japanese pet pulling him into a rough hug and promising he'd never hate him brought tears to his eyes, and by the time he'd finished talking he was openly weeping, resting his head on Yuri's shoulder as he spoke.

Sara and Michele exchanged long, concerned looks, and then the violet eyed woman spoke for both of them, holding her brother's hand. “We're sorry, Otabek... more sorry than we can say. We... we need some time, some space away from you...” Emil uncurled from Michele, staring at him sadly as the Italian nodded along with his sister.

“You're afraid for your souls if you stay near me.” It wasn't a question, but Sara indicated agreement anyway.

“You think fucking a vampire is _good_ for your soul?” Yuri snarled, and both twins winced.

“You think we don't worry about that as well? Vampires are one thing... but living with a demon...”

“ _He's not a fucking demon.”_

“You and Mila can stay with me for now” Emil said, sighing as he looked at Yuri. The blonde curled his lip, and Emil switched to Old Norse, his tone apologetic. “I'll still help you, you know that... but there's no point in putting them through extra stress. You forget how fragile humans are... if they want to go, let them go.”

“I knew you'd back him... it's only for one lifetime anyway, right? After that you'll be loyal again?” Yuri looked disgusted, and Otabek took his hand gently. The hurt expression on Emil's face made Yuri flinch, and he lowered his eyes, ashamed of his temper for once.

“It's not Emil's fault. Let him look after Michele... that was your idea in the first place, remember? Besides, you always knew the twins would react like this. They're Catholic, after all... and they're right. We don't know what being around me will mean for any of their souls...”

“If you're going to talk about us, at least use English” Michele growled, and Yuri gave up, waving his hand dismissively at them.

“If you want to leave, leave. Take Mila and get out. I'm sure Emil can organise a taxi.”

Sara rose and headed for the stairs, and Michele stared at the blonde. “Right now?”

“What, you think you can insult me and still stay in my house?” Yuri glared at Emil, who was already packing his books into a bag.

“We're going. Grab anything you need for tonight, Mickey, I'll come over and get the rest tomorrow.”

Phichit and Kenjirou had been sat silently throughout the tense exchange, now the Thai stood up and crossed to the tearful nephilim. Kneeling in front of him, he put his hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Did Yuuri know? About you?”

“Y-yes... he asked me about it after I returned from Seattle.”

“He was OK with it?”

“I... I wasn't d-dark then... I don't know what he'd think n-now...”

With a compassionate expression, Phichit smiled a little. “You don't frighten me” he said, and the nephilim stared at him. “You're never going to let that happen again, right?”

“Right...”

“Then I'm OK with it too.”

Wordlessly, Kenjirou sat beside Otabek and very briefly rested his head on the nephilim's shoulder, the physical contact speaking louder than words about how much he trusted him.

Mila appeared carrying a bag, and sighed as she saw the little pile of mortals, giving Yuri a sad look. Speaking in their archaic Russian, she indicated the twins. “I knew this would happen after last week” she said simply, and Yuri shrugged.

“You wanted to live with us, even after you'd seen what he could do.”

“The twins didn't know... and I didn't see any need to tell them.”

“Are you still going to help with the plan?”

“Of course” she let go of Sara's hand and folded Yuri into her arms, ignoring the offended squawk from the blonde at the unsolicited hug. “I'm in, all the way to the end. Let's just give the twins some space for now. They'll come around, I'm sure.”

Michele paused as the four of them headed towards the door, Emil calling a taxi from outside. Looking back at Otabek, he seemed to struggle for a moment before speaking.

“I don't hate you” he managed, and the nephilim raised his head to meet his eyes. “I don't even... I know this isn't your fault. It's just... we don't have much left to cling to apart from our faith...”

“I understand” Otabek nodded, lowering his eyes. “I'm... I'm sorry.” As the twins left, dragging the reluctant vampires behind them, Yuri glared at their retreating backs.

“You have _nothing_ to be sorry for” he growled, and Phichit nodded agreement, giving Otabek a firm hug and wiping his tears away.


	20. Chapter 20

Yuuri pushed open the door to Viktor's study and busied himself lighting the fire. The human staff weren't permitted to enter the room, the books were too dangerous to risk allowing the uninitiated near them. Yuuri had only been allowed in since his rebirth, once Viktor was satisfied that he could be trusted alone with the library. Brushing coal dust off his hands as the fire caught, he glanced around the room.

A letter on the desk caught his eye. Viktor had a habit of printing off emails, preferring to read things from paper instead of on a computer. His attention was drawn by the names, and he crossed to the desk, turning the paper around so he could read it. As he took in the details of the letter, his hands began to shake and his eyes filled with blood red tears.

Returning to the dacha after a meeting with Yakov's former war cabinet, now _his_ cabinet of vampiric sycophants, Viktor found his child sat on the steps of the dacha, a piece of paper balled up in his hands. Snow had collected on his hair and shoulders, evidence that he'd been sat there for several hours. Kneeling in front of the other vampire, Viktor brushed the powder off his cheeks and waited for him to look up.

“When were you going to tell me about Otabek?”

“I don't understand...”

“I saw the email. I didn't mean to snoop... but I read it... the explosion in the house... it said he was... that he looked like a... a monster... what has Yuri done to him?!”

Viktor gently pulled Yuuri to his feet and gestured him inside. “Let's talk by the fire. Your clothes are soaked from the snow.”

“Tell me” Yuuri insisted, letting Viktor lead him inside. The sorcerer sighed, gently pushing his lover closer to the fire in the lounge and fetching a towel for his hair.

“You understand Otabek is a nephilim, and you know what that means?”

“I think so... he's part angel. At least, he was...”

“Nephilim souls are a little different to humans. They have the ability to _share_ their souls, something humans and vampires cannot do. Some nephilim use it to heal people, others put parts of their souls into their art, creating wondrous works. Michelangelo is a great example of that.”

“The painter? He was a nephilim??”

“Rumour has it, yes.”

Yuuri stared at him for a moment with his mouth open, then frowned. “Otabek healed Kenjirou... back at the coven.”

“You remember that? Yes, he did. It hurt him to do it, but he did it anyway. He was very selfless.”

“What does that have to do with what he became...”

“A vampire and a nephilim can form a bond using this ability. It's rare, very rare... because once the bond is made, it's permanent. One the bond is in place, the vampire can use the nephilim's abilities freely, and the nephilim becomes immortal.

“A-abilities?”

“Otabek can read auras, work magic, probably a few other things I don't know about. Yuri can make him use those abilities however he wants.”

“My god... so Yuri made Otabek bond with him?”

“I think so, yes. But it darkens the nephilim's soul, and makes it into a monster. The physical changes would fit with a dark nephilim.”

“Does that mean... Otabek's not an angel any more?”

Nodding, Viktor bit his lip. “I don't know for sure but... black wings, horns, talons... he doesn't sound like an angel, does he?”

“No. He sounds like a demon” Yuuri shuddered. “that bastard made him into a demon...” Leaning against the fireplace, the smaller vampire covered his eyes with his hands, fighting back tears. “Every time I think I've heard the worst _... why is Yuri doing this?_ ”

Forcing his face into an expression of guilt and shame, Viktor turned away and sank down onto the couch. “It... it's my fault...”

“What? Why?”

“I... I wasn't a good sire to him” Viktor hunched in on himself, and Yuuri crossed to him, sitting beside him and resting his hand on his shoulder as his lover spoke. “I didn't give him enough time, enough attention... Georgi sent him to America to scout, and I just let him go... I should have been there for him.”

“That's... _that's_ why he hates you so much? Because Georgi sent him away?”

Viktor wondered how far he could push the lies before Yuuri became suspicious. “I don't know... perhaps. When I saw him again, I had Mila with me... he might have been jealous of her as well... I tried to make it up to him with the coven, but by then he was so hateful, so cruel...”

“Is he going to use Otabek hurt us?” Yuuri's voice was harsh, and Viktor rested his head on his lover's shoulder, hiding his smirk against his shirt.

“I... I think so, yes. Otabek's very powerful... he's physically as strong as a vampire, he probably knows how to use magic from reading what was left of my library... and if he can change form, who knows what else he can do...”

“If I could talk to him... get him to understand what Yuri's doing...”

 _Brilliant idea... Otabek would almost certainly let you through the wards into the house... let you get close to both him and Yuri..._ Viktor shook his head, feigning regretful sadness. “Even if he wanted to go against Yuri, the bond would prevent it. Yuri has complete control over him.”

“So he's helpless...”

Raising his head and brushing Yuuri's tears away, Viktor kissed him. “I'm so sorry, my love.”

“What are we going to do?” Yuuri asked, in a small voice. Wrapping his arms around him, Viktor sighed dramatically, watching the logs catching in the fireplace.

“I have a plan... but I'm going to need your help. There's a spell... it won't _hurt_ Otabek or Yuri, but it should stop them being able to attack us.”

“Like... like a defence against them?”

“Something like that. I'll need some of your blood, though.”

“A-anything you need!”

Entering the basement below the dacha, Viktor set the bowl of Yuuri's blood in the centre of his ritual circle and crossed to the cells built into the far wall. Snagging a male human with a similar build to his newest child, he dragged the mewling man into the circle by the chains around his wrists, and shackled him to the floor. The position forced the man to kneel, arms extended out to either side of him, and Viktor raised his head, gripping his jaw and pouring some of the blood into his mouth.

“Swallow” he snarled, and the terrified human complied, choking at the taste.

Stepping back, Viktor stripped off his shirt before raising the bowl and chanting, black tendrils of power moving within the circle as he worked. As the lilting, ancient language ebbed and flowed, the blood in the bowl boiled and writhed in a rhythm with the black smoke looping around the vampire and the human. Wide eyed, the human began to scream as the blackness seeped into his eyes and ears, pouring down his throat and covering his body completely. Hours passed, the endless murmuring from the vampire manipulating the magic within the circle. The human eventually fell silent, and the body slumped in the shackles as the spell took hold, using the soul of the man as fuel.

Shaking with the effort of crafting the spell, the vampire lowered the bowl, watching as the liquid inside swirled and pulsed. Dipping his fingers into the blood, he carefully drew symbols and sigils on his own body, marking his forehead, lips and heart. Kneeling in front of the shadowed human figure, he made the same marks on it and smiled as the figure shuddered and twitched.

“Rise” he murmured, standing upright. The figure dragged itself to its feet, the chains snapping easily under its strength.

Murmuring commands, he assured himself of his control over the figure, then stepped out of the circle and began chanting again. The symbols on the floor glowed and then flared brightly, filling the room with blinding, reddish light. When the light faded, the figure was gone. Picking up the bowl of blood, Viktor poured it out into the circle and watched as it spread out, creating a scrying mirror. The vampire curled his lip into a cruel smile as he watched his homunculus make its way up a rainy street, heading for a recently rebuilt, five storey house. As it passed under a street-light, he saw the familiar features of his Japanese lover appear out of the blank flesh of its face.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: descriptions of injuries, burns, violence, themes of horror

When the ward triggered, it sent a chime to the nephilim alerting him to a strange vampire approaching the house. Phichit had been helping him make dinner, and the Thai flinched as he darted to the lounge window to see what was happening outside. The nephilim's cry of shock and distress brought the other man to his side instantly, and Phichit's squeal alerted the rest of the house.

Holding the Thai pet back from the door, Otabek shook his head at his protests. “Stay here” he ordered, and Phichit burst into tears.

“But it's Yuuri!”

“Viktor might have sent him... stay out the way!”

Silently shouting for his lover, Otabek cautiously approached the door and paused, sensing the aura of the vampire coming up the path. It was vibrant and bright, dominated by a lot of hunger and a large dose of fear.

Yuri joined him and nodded, hiding out of sight as Otabek pulled the door open. The vampire outside paused, and then his face crumpled, sobbing as he saw the nephilim.

“O-Otabek... y-you're really h-here... I thought I w-wouldn't find you...”

“Yuuri... what are you doing here?” Otabek sounded suspicious, his hand clenched on the door. Pausing a few feet away from the porch, the vampire brushed blood tears from his eyes.

“I e-escaped...”

 _Impossible_ Yuri's mental voice was harsh, and Otabek frowned. _Viktor would never let him get all the way here, even if he managed to escape the dacha._

“How did you get here?”

“G-Georgi... he h-helped me... Viktor left me behind while he went to R-Rome... Georgi knew y-you'd keep me safe, but he wasn't s-sure where you w-were...”

 _He's not lying... his aura's clear_ Otabek reported, and Yuri frowned, resting his head against the wall and thinking rapidly.

_Georgi might help him... even though he's committed to Viktor, he's not going to watch him abuse another child._

“O-Otabek... I'm h-hungry... I tried so hard not to h-hurt anyone... but I'm h-hungry...”

“Come in” Otabek decided, pulling the door all the way open and lifting his wards, allowing the young vampire into the house. Yuri curled his lip, stepping into sight and raising an eyebrow.

“Yuri...” the other vampire paused, telegraphing his fear of the blonde. “I'm s-sorry... I didn't know where else to go...”

Gesturing to the kitchen, Yuri pulled the door to the lounge closed, shutting Phichit out of the way of the hungry vampire. “Bottled blood in the warmer, help yourself. Otabek, would you please go fetch the others?”

Draining his second bottle, Yuuri leaned against the kitchen counter and closed his eyes in satisfaction. Yuri heard Phichit arguing with Otabek before Christophe sent him upstairs safely out of the way, then the lounge door opened. Gesturing the younger vampire inside, Yuri stood next to the nephilim and folded his arms across his chest.

“What happened to you?” Yuri's voice was cold, and Otabek frowned at him, unhappy that he wasn't trying to be more empathetic.

“V... Viktor lied to me” Yuuri sank down onto a couch and put his head in his hands, shaking from the effort of holding back fresh tears. “He told me he l-loved me... that he w-wanted to be with me... but it was a l-lie...”

“What did he do to you?” Otabek asked, sitting beside him. Yuri made a warning sound in the back of his throat, disliking the nephilim being so close to the younger vampire. Otabek ignored him, focused on Yuuri.

“He h-hurt me... he t-took my blood... there was a circle, and p-people... oh god... he k-killed them!” Shuddering, Yuuri wept and Otabek growled, looking up at the other vampires.

“The ritual he's been working on...”

“Do you know what he was doing? What the ritual was for?” Yuri asked, and the other vampire shook his head.

“I don't know... he said it was for one of the C-Council members...”

“I'll contact Celestino” Christophe said, “see if he knows anything about this.” Yuri nodded, and the Swiss silently left the room.

As Otabek comforted the younger vampire, Yuri crossed his arms over his chest. “Why aren't you dead? If Viktor wanted you for a ritual...”

“H-he wanted my _blood_... he locked me in the dacha... but I had G-Georgi's number and I was desperate...”

“Wait... wait. You said he left you behind when he went to Rome?”

“Y-yes...”

“And Georgi rescued you from the dacha?”

“ _Yes..._ ”

Clenching his fists, Yuri shook his head. “ _Why would Georgi be in Russia, if Viktor was in Rome?_ You're lying...”

“ _Yuri..._ his aura...”

“ _He is lying_ ” Yuri snarled, “I don't care what his aura says. No way would Georgi trust Viktor alone in Rome...”

Otabek rose, his temper flaring as he rested his hand on Yuuri's shoulder defensively. “ _Look at the state of him..._ how can you say he's lying...”

The laugh cut them both off and they stared at the seated figure as he raised his head, an eerie, echoing chuckle escaping his mouth as it gaped open. Blood filled his eyes and his skin began to _melt_ , the features of the Japanese vampire blurring and dissolving as the humanoid rose to its feet. As Otabek tried to back away from it, his hand sank _into_ it's shoulder and its flesh crept up his arm in thick, looping tendrils.

Yuri cried out as the thing began to expand and grow, the tendrils spreading over Otabek's body, becoming a black, viscous fluid. The nephilim screamed as the blackness began trying to consume him, searing and burning his flesh. With an oath, he tried to pull away and the thing laughed again, the rest of its body puddling onto the floor and relentlessly oozed towards the blonde vampire.

“No... no...” Yuri flattened himself against the wall, frozen in terror as the mass flowed across the room, covering more of the nephilim who was roaring in pain and fear. Straight out of his darkest nightmares, memories of watching his family being consumed in the snow paralysed him, and all he could do was shake his head in denial as the thing crept forward.

Gathering his wits, Otabek pushed the pain aside and focused, recognising that his lover was terrified and in shock, unable to help him or defend himself. With a growl, he dragged himself out of the grasp of the creature, using magic to create a barrier and block its attempt to devour him. Jumping towards the blonde, he pulled him out of range and shouted a warning to Seung-gil as the thing turned its attention to the Korean.

Sensing its prey was getting away, the black mass unleashed a deafening shriek, exploding outwards into a net that blanketed the whole room. Trapping Yuri and Seung-gil in its thick strands, the only one it couldn't ensnare was Otabek, thanks to his shield. Forming a solid mass from one section, it pinned him to the ground instead, unable to get to his skin but strong enough to weigh him down and prevent his movement, keeping him away from the others. Yuri screamed as the viscous black webbing burned his flesh, thrashing against its hold frantically. Across the room, Seung-gil fought against the strands restraining him, stoically ignoring the sizzle of his skin.

Christophe appeared in the doorway holding a rucksack and surveyed the carnage in the room, his pet hanging unconscious over his shoulder. The black mass lunged towards the fresh target and then froze before touching him, pulling back and returning its attentions to the flailing form of Viktor's child, smothering his face and shoulders and muffling his screams. Sneering at Yuri's helplessness, the Swiss turned and stalked out of the house, kicking the door shut behind him as he went. With a burst of enraged strength, Yuri yanked his arms free and tore the webs away from his face, then drew a breath and screamed for Emil.

The Varangian heard the scream instantly and yelled for Mila, reacting immediately to the terror and pain in Yuri's voice. The pair left the humans behind and raced across the city at full speed, covering the miles in a matter of minutes. Kicking their way through the door into the house, both of them froze as they took in the surreal horror in the lounge.

Otabek was pinned under a heaving, pulsating black mass, concentrating his efforts on keeping his shield up to prevent being consumed. He'd managed to extend the shield to the two vampires, but the effort of maintaining the magic under that much pressure was making his body shake and twitch. Yuri and Seung-gil were wrapped in web, and the thick strings were constantly probing and testing the wards protecting them. Trapped at the top of the stairs, Kenjirou was cowering, and cried out in relief as the other two vampires appeared in the doorway.

“What the... Otabek, what _is_ this?”

“It... it's s spell... a transmutation... it's trying to eat us! I'm h-holding it back, but...”

Cursing, Emil dodged out of the way of a tendril as the bulk of the thing became aware of the new prey and crept towards them. “How do we fight it?”

“Break the webs... or burn it...”

“We can't burn it with you in there, you'll die!”

“Get ready to run in and grab them” Mila snapped, raising her hands. “I'll break the webs, you get them out. Yuri first, then Seung-gil, Otabek last. Ready?”

Emil nodded, his expression bleak. “Do it.”

Reaching out with her abilities, Mila focused on the thicker strands around Yuri's face and throat and tore them apart, dragging the web off the vampire as Emil darted across the room. Desperately, Yuri looped his arms around the taller vampire's neck as he was pulled free, and Otabek dropped the shield around him in relief, switching it to a barrier near Mila to protect her while she worked. Reaching the door, Emil dropped Yuri onto the stairs and turned back, his skin charred in places where the web had struck him.

“Seung-gil next” Mila panted, hacking at the strands surrounding the Korean. Her telekinesis allowed her to tear apart the viscous web from a distance, but she was already tired from the unexpected dash across the city. Using her abilities so violently and continuously was costing her. Otabek dropped the shield around the Korean as Emil yanked him free, and cried out with pain as the rest of his shield shattered at the same time, the weight pinning him down and burning into his skin.

“Help him... get him out of there!” Yuri clung to the doorway, helpless as his lover screamed. Mila shook her head, growling as she tried to keep the rest of the strands away from her own body while she fought to free Otabek.

“It's too s-strong... Emil no, don't touch it!”

Ignoring her, the Varangian leaped across the room and grabbed at the bulk with both hands, putting his strength behind it as Mila continued to wrestle it from a distance. With an ugly sucking sound it shifted, releasing Otabek from under its weight. Pulling himself free, Otabek shouted as smoke began to rise from Emil's skin, where the mass was trying to devour him.

“Yuri... I need you!” the nephilim raised his hand, and the blonde vampire nodded understanding, stepping into the room and grabbing his fingers, opening himself up and letting his lover access his strength. Taking a huge draught of power through the bond, Otabek sank his hand deliberately into the mass and incanted, a high, rolling shout that echoed in the confined space and rang like a bell in the ears of the vampires.

Within moments, the black mass began to boil and writhe, heated from within by Otabek's spell. It flowed away from Emil, revealing deep burns across his entire body that left him screaming in agony as Mila dragged him out of the room. Hand in hand, the nephilim and his vampire faced down the conjured monstrosity that had been disguised as Yuuri Katsuki, burning it from the inside out with Otabek's magic.

By the time the thing had been reduced to ashes, Mila had carried Emil upstairs to her old suite and the twins had arrived. Taking one look at the burnt body of his lover, Michele ordered everyone out of the room and locked the door behind him. Yuri used his ability to watch for a moment before nodding.

“Michele's giving Emil his blood... it'll have a more powerful effect than anything else. Magical injuries take longer to heal though.”

Seung-gil and Yuri were also nursing damage, but nothing compared to Emil's burns, protected as they had been by Otabek's shielding. Wearily, they sat in the lounge of the suite, Kenjirou pressed against Seung-gil's side as the Korean concentrated on healing.

The conversation stopped as Michele appeared, closing the door to Emil's room quietly behind him. Crossing to Otabek, he waited until the nephilim stood up and then extended his hand in a gesture of truce.

“You saved him” he said, his voice throbbing with emotion. “He said a few moments longer and he would have been dead. Thank you.”

Fighting back tears, Otabek shook his hand carefully, nodding. “He saved us, too. Is he going to be alright?”

“He's healing, but its slow. Is the magic doing that?”

“Probably. D-do you want me to take a look at him?”

“Please. Anything you can do to help... he's in a lot of pain.”

Looking around, Mila made a noise of confusion. “Where's Christophe? Was he hurt?”

Snarls erupted from Yuri and he stood up, kicking the chair he had perched on apart with rage. “ _Christophe..._ he's working for Viktor. He must have been all along.”

“ _What?_ ”

“It's true... he left the room just before the thing attacked, and when he came back he'd knocked Phichit out and was carrying him... he saw what was happening and he left.” Otabek's voice shook with fury, and Seung-gil nodded.

“That _thing_ didn't attack him, either” the Korean pointed out. “It went to, but then stopped... as if it recognised him...”

“How long has he been spying for Viktor?” Mila demanded, quivering with anger, “how much has he told him about our plans?”

“I don't know” Yuri said, his own fury making his voice thick, “but I intend to find out.”

Grimly, Otabek nodded and turned to the blonde. “When I burned that _thing_ I could sense it... it was made by Viktor... it was being controlled by him somehow. He knows it failed.” Firming his resolve, he took a deep breath. “Call Guang Hong, get him and Leo back here. It's time.”

Gazing at the others as they nodded in agreement, Yuri curled his lip. “You're right. We should never have waited this long... our delay let him strike the first blow, and he nearly killed Emil. It's time for Viktor to reap what he's sown.”


	22. Chapter 22

Phichit threw himself into the vampire's arms as Yuuri opened the door to the dacha. Clasping the weeping human tightly, the young vampire gave Christophe a distrustful look and led them both into the lounge. Standing by the fireplace, Viktor raised an eyebrow at the Swiss, indicating a warm bottle of blood for the guest with his own glass.

“Why don't you take Phichit to get something to eat” Viktor suggested, and Yuuri nodded, gently piloting the distressed Thai to the kitchen. Once his child was safely out of earshot, the sorcerer turned his attention to his old coven mate.

“You should have let me know you were coming.”

“That wouldn't have been a good idea. You're being watched, Viktor. Your child has eyes everywhere.”

“Not here. Russia is my territory.”

“Mmm. I haven't been able to touch base with you since Yakov died. There's a lot you don't know... about Yuri... and about the Council. Things are a lot more complicated than we thought.”

“Oh?” Carefully setting his glass down, Viktor folded his arms and glared at the Swiss. “Do enlighten me...”

“You've heard of the Spymaster?”

“Of course.”

Christophe smiled unpleasantly. “Your child is a lot more accomplished than you thought.”

“You're not serious...”

“Deadly.”

Viktor turned from him and stared into the fire. “Impossible. Yuri's been in America...”

“Celestino spoke to him after Yakov's death. Video call, I saw and heard everything. Yuri refused the role as your lieutenant, and Celestino agreed it was inappropriate because he _already held a Council position._ My sire wouldn't confirm it to me, but the things they said... the way they spoke to each other...”

Viktor thought back to the Coven house, when Yuri had brought him the news of Yakov's death and Guang Hong had known Yuri was responsible...

_“_ _How do you know... did you do this???”_ _Guang Hong hissed the words, his hands bunching into fists as he pushed himself away from Leo. Viktor clicked his tongue, making a soothing gesture at his youngest child._

_“Lets not throw accusations around. I expect the Council will want an investigation soon enough...”_

_“They're considering it” Yuri said, and Viktor raised an eyebrow. “It was my duty to inform the First Seat as soon as I could confirm the deaths. That took priority over reporting to you. You'll receive an invitation to take the Second Seat within a few days.”_

_“Duty?” Viktor sounded suspicious, and Otabek tensed. “What possible duty could you have to the Council above your own sire? And why would they tell you anything about their plans?”_

_Yuri shrugged, disinterest on his face. “Georgi doesn't intend to contest your claim to the throne, and will take the position as your second” he continued, and Viktor's expression darkened even further._

_“That position should be yours” he snarled, “that is your duty, as my eldest child...”_

“It was my duty to inform the First Seat as soon as I could confirm the deaths. That took priority over reporting to you. _.._ that's what he said when he kicked me out of America. I was too angry to think it through...”

“Georgi knows too. I'm guessing he didn't tell you?”

The wine glass shattered in Viktor's hand. “ _My loyal, trustworthy brother kept that a secret from me?”_

 _“_ Seems so. What else have you missed... oh, your little gift to the house before I left seemed to backfire, I caught sight of Mila running to the rescue.”

“That explains how Otabek destroyed it. I hadn't counted on Mila's involvement. Still, it gave them a taste of what they'll be walking into if they try for me.”

“Can I be honest, Viktor?” The Swiss stood up and leaned against the mantelpiece, studying his old friend. With a nod, the Russian forced himself to calm down and poured out another goblet of blood.

“I think we've got a situation brewing in America. Yuri's pulling in favours from everywhere; Seung-gil, Mila... plus he's got Guang Hong and Leo on his side...”

“Guang Hong? No, no... that can't be right... Yuri _killed_ Yakov. That should have set them at odds forever, with Leo's hatred of Yuri fuelling that flame.”

“He seems to be blaming you, viewing Yuri as your pawn instead of hating _him_. Apparently they exchanged sob stories over your treatment of the Varangian when he was newborn...”

Cursing, Viktor began pacing the room. Christophe watched him for a while, amused as the swearing shifted through several languages. “Yuri's building a small army, and he's gunning for you. The vampires are bad enough, but that _abomination_ of his is something else entirely...”

“Otabek's not a problem” Viktor said, dismissively.

“You haven't seen what he can do.”

“He's still at least partly human. Humans have weaknesses. I have his.”

“Yuuri?”

“Why do you think I made him” Viktor grinned, and Christophe rolled his eyes.

“Typically devious... fine. What about the wrecking ball?”

“Leo's not a problem either... he'll be too busy trying not to break his boyfriend when I make Guang Hong attack him.”

“That's cruel, even by your standards.”

Tapping his fingers against his jaw, Viktor ran through the others in his mind. “I can still control Mila as well, Yuri's the only one too powerful... What about the new one? This... Emil? I remember him... old, and quite strong...”

“Don't worry about him” Christophe smiled, his eyes cold. “He's developed a soft spot for my old pet, Michele. I should be able to make him lose his temper quite easily... and then he'll make mistakes.”

“Fine. You handle Emil, I'll lock Mila down and keep Leo busy. Seung-gil won't go near the front line... Yuuri will keep Otabek out of the way and I'll deal with Yuri personally.”

Christophe grunted. “If you're so secure, why did you send that _thing_ to America? You blew my cover.”

Laughing, Viktor stretched out on the couch and poured himself another glass of blood. “Sorry about that... I needed to provoke a reaction from them. Yuri would never be angry enough to come and knock on my door otherwise.”

“You _want_ them to come here?”

“Of course! This is my territory, _my_ stage.”

Glancing around, Christophe nodded understanding. “You've got defences set up...”

“Obviously.”

Sighing, the Swiss leaned back on his chair and sipped from his glass, eyeing the other vampire. “This is a mess, Viktor. It's not what we planned...”

“Can't be helped. I didn't expect Yuri to turn against me... but the question is, are you going to turn against me too?” Viktor's voice was suddenly hard, and Christophe frowned.

“You'd really doubt me?”

“I'm doubting everything right now.”

Folding his arms, Christophe shook his head. “I've been your friend for six hundred years... you're not getting rid of me, Viktor. I'm in this right to the end.”

_Rome, 1405_

_The tanned vampire had an easy smile and a sultry look, throwing flirtatious glances back towards the sorcerer as he led him through the mansion. Viktor suspected that the flirting was out of habit rather than just desire – the creature exuded sensuality and depravity. His sire had instructed him to 'take care' of Yakov's oldest child, and Viktor began to understand Yakov's chuckle as Christophe opened the door to his wing of the house._

_The private rooms were lavishly decorated and heady, musky incense burned throughout. The scent was powerful, but unable to overwhelm the deeper, blood red fragrance of the humans that enthusiastically greeted their vampiric owner as they arrived._

_“You have a harem?”_

_“You don't?”_

_Viktor laughed, shaking his head. “I don't have much use for humans... they're too fragile.”_

_“Ah... well, I'd prefer it if you didn't break any of my pets... but they're very well trained. I'm sure they can find ways to entertain you. Lets start with the basics... are you hungry?”_

_“I could eat” Viktor nodded, and Christophe gestured him to a comfortable couch._

_“Do you have a preference on gender, or age?”_

_“Young adult, male... thank you, that's very considerate.”_

_Once the silver haired vampire had settled down, the Swiss spoke quietly to one of the humans and perched on the chair opposite while they waited._

_“Since you're a guest, and Celestino asked me to keep you happy, I'll treat you to the cream of my crop. This is Etienne” Christophe smiled as a young man entered the room, smirking as Viktor's jaw dropped._

_Eighteen or nineteen years old, the man walked with a sensual sway to his hips, kneeling beside the vampire and resting his hands on Viktor's shoulders. Slender and petite, he folded himself into Viktor's lap, deep brown eyes fixed on the vampire's lips. His dark, silky hair flowed over his shoulders like water, and he drew the mane aside to reveal the length of his neck with a sigh of bliss. Sinking his fingers into Viktor's hair, he drew the vampire's fangs into his throat with a soft moan, pressing against his body as the pleasure washed over him from the bite._

_Losing himself in the taste of the human, Viktor wrapped his arms around him, awareness fading back in as the beautiful young man sighed and tightened his fingers in his hair, indicating he needed to stop drinking. Pulling his fangs free of his flesh reluctantly, he ran his tongue over the wounds and groaned as his plaything pressed against him again, feathering kisses over his forehead and cheeks. As he kissed the vampire's lips softly and sensually, he murmured “thank you.”_

_Rising from his couch, Christophe smiled. “He'll be happy to see to any other needs you might have... and I'll send in a few others to keep you two company if you're still hungry. I'd rather you didn't drain anyone dry.”_

_“O-others... ah... yes, thank you... you're very generous with your pets” Viktor murmured, forcing himself to focus on the other vampire as Etienne shifted his kisses down over his throat and collarbone, grinding into his lap slowly and deliberately._

_“I'm generous with many things” Christophe said, pausing at the door. Glancing back, he pouted at the silver haired vampire. “If you decide you want to play with someone a little less... fragile... I'm in the next room.” With a swish of his hips, he disappeared, two more gorgeous young men slipping into the room as he left._

_Rome, 1636_

_Viktor stretched out on the bed, sighing with contentment and running his fingertips down the thigh of one of Christophe's pets as it wrapped itself around him sleepily. The vampire's body was warm with an abundance of fresh human blood, and the pets he was sharing the room with were happy to cuddle up to him after sex._

_The door opened and Christophe slipped into the room, wrapped in a robe and making a show of winking at the silver haired vampire. “Enjoying my hospitality, Viktor?”_

_“As always” the sorcerer smiled, sitting up and gently disentangling from the humans. Nuzzling Viktor goodbye, they each paused and exchanged a deep, passionate kiss with their owner before leaving the room._

_“How do you get them to do that?” Viktor asked, curiously._

_“Do what?”_

_“Be so... so...” he waved a hand, unable to find the word he wanted._

_“Enthusiastic?”_

_“Yes, that.”_

_Christophe laughed, sliding into the bed next to him and resting his head on Viktor's chest. “I select humans who enjoy sex far more than most, and who feel repressed or abused in their current life. I offer them a paradise where they can enjoy their sensuality and every pleasure they can imagine.”_

_Running his hands through Christophe's hair, Viktor nodded. “Makes sense... I've never bothered with pets.. perhaps I should invest in some.”_

_“They're time consuming” the Swiss said, sighing happily at the affection from the sorcerer. “Pick one that interests you or is useful, otherwise you'll just get bored and eat it.”_

_“You know me so well.”_

_“I do” Christophe sat up, narrowing his hazel eyes. “Which is why I know you're up to something.”_

_“Up to something?”_

_“Yakov's in a foul mood, Celestino's being secretive, and you're practically glowing. Whatever's bothering them, you're in it up to your neck.”_

_Viktor eyed the Swiss speculatively. “Are you sure you want to know? Your sire...”_

_“My sire...” Christophe's voice was bitter, and Viktor raised an eyebrow. “Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm loyal to him.”_

_“I thought you two got on well.”_

_Sitting up, the tanned vampire gestured vaguely towards the door. “I'm nearly seven hundred years old, and my sire is the First Seat of the Council of Elders. Do you know what I spend my time doing?”_

_Viktor shook his head._

_“Fucking my pets, sleeping, entertaining his guests and occasionally being used as a sex toy.”_

_Frowning, Viktor tilted his head. “You don't get involved in politics? Or run your own resources?”_

_“I don't do_ anything” _Christophe snarled, “Celestino has two younger children, and they run the business and the politics of his empire. Me? I'm here to_ look _pretty, and be a good host.”_

_“You want more than that.”_

_“Seven_ hundred _years, Viktor... I've never even left Rome.”_

_Reaching for the irate vampire, Viktor made soothing noises as he pulled Christophe back into his arms. “How can I help?” he asked, pressing his lips against the other vampire's forehead._

_“You're planning something. Tell me what it is.”_

_“Let's just say I'm planning a... a celebration for my sire. Something big... to show my appreciation for him...”_

_Tensing his hand on Viktor's thigh, the other vampire nodded. “A celebration... I'd like to do something similar for Celestino. To show my_ appreciation _, as you say.”_

_“Well then... perhaps we can help each other? You help me with my sire, I'll help you with yours...”_


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History lesson!

_Madrid, 1795_

“You've been following me for an hour.”

Pausing half way down the alley, the Latino eyed his target curiously. The tiny stranger stood calmly waiting for him, arms loose by his sides as he watched his stalker. Leo raised an eyebrow as he took in the vampire he'd been tailing since sundown. Small and compact, his slender frame and delicate features seemed exotic.

“You're trespassing in my territory.”

The strange vampire raised his chin, his eyes clear and fearless. “Oh really. And who are you?”

“That's my line...” Leo stalked forward, closing the distance on the stranger, lips pulling back from his long fangs. The other vampire held his ground.

“My name is Guang Hong, child of Yakov. You should be more careful who you threaten, yáng guǐzi.”

“What did you just call me...” the tone of voice as Guang Hong spoke his lineage got through to the Latino, and he frowned. “Who's Yakov, anyway, and what are you doing in my country?”

Sneering, the Chinese folded his arms across his chest. “Are you an idiot? My business here is none of your concern... besides, this isn't _your_ country. Europe belongs to King Celestino of Rome.” Curling his lip in disgust, Guang Hong shook his head. “You are nothing more than an uneducated dog.”

Leo tilted his head to the side, assessing the creature before him. “Is the whole world owned by vampires, then? I thought it was just America...”

His expression was so confused and irritated, Guang Hong couldn't help but laugh. Leaning against the wall, he shook his head as the Latino growled, disliking being mocked. “Utter idiot” the Chinese said, and Leo lost his temper, throwing a lightning fast punch at the smaller man's head.

Unable to react quickly enough to dodge, Guang Hong's eyes slid to the side, hypnotised by the fist embedded nearly a foot into the wall beside his face. The angry vampire pressed his weight against the Chinese, and the smaller creature felt his ribs creak under the pressure.

“Call me 'idiot' again...” Leo snarled, and Guang Hong dragged his gaze back to his face. It dawned on him that the Latino was fast, terrifyingly strong, and very pretty.

“Perhaps not” the Chinese vampire suggested, and Leo pulled his fist out of the wall, yanking out bits of the brick with a clatter. His skin was undamaged from the impact, no healing required. “Going around claiming territory with no knowledge is dangerous, though” Guang Hong continued, soothingly. “You seem quite old, why didn't your sire teach you about the Council? Who is he?”

Lowering his eyes, Leo brushed stone dust off his hands and turned away from the other vampire. “I never found out his name. He was too busy sitting in the middle of the desert, waiting for the sun to come up” he growled. Guang Hong gaped at him.

“He... he killed himself?”

Turning away, Leo headed back down the alley, and the Chinese vampire followed. “Wait... I... I'm the same! I mean... I have no sire. Not really...”

“What?” Leo paused, glancing back over his shoulder, and Guang Hong bit his lip.

“I... I lied earlier. I'm permitted to claim direct lineage, but really I'm Yakov's g-grandson... my _sire_ ” the word was spat, “abandoned me after I was m-made... and went to A-America to be with his _preferred_ child, Yuri...”

Leo spun and grabbed Guang Hong's shoulders. The strength in his hands made the Chinese vampire shiver, but not as much as the pure hatred he could see in the other's expression.

“ _Did you just say Yuri...?”_

 _“_ Y-yes...”

“A Norseman... almost the same size as you, but blonde?”

“I... I think so...”

Growling, Leo slammed Guang Hong against the wall and the smaller vampire screamed as his spine fractured from the impact, gasping as white hot agony shot through his body. “ _Yuri... Mila... and Viktor?”_ the Latino snarled, pressing him against the bricks.

“How do you... ahhhhh _fuck...._ h-how do you know them?!” Guang Hong cried out again as the pressure from Leo's hands snapped his ribs and collarbone, and he grabbed the Latino's wrists helplessly.

“They kicked me out of America... Yuri and I go back a very long way...”

“I hate them too!”

Taking the pressure off the Chinese, Leo watched as he sagged and forced his body to heal. “What?”

“K-killing me won't hurt them!” he gasped, “Viktor doesn't give a shit about me! Neither does Mila... and I've never even met Yuri! P-please! I h-hate Viktor... _he_ _left me behind_... told me I was w-worthless to him... a mistake... and Yu...”

“Don't say his name!”

“Sorry! T-the other one... he's the reason Viktor left! I _hate_ them!”

Guang Hong had survived being sold to Viktor as a human by knowing exactly how to use his physical beauty and seeming fragility as a weapon, and as currency. He'd relied on the same instincts when he was abandoned by his sire; Georgi had easily fallen for his helpless charm and helped him secure a place in Yakov's household. His cunning and intelligence had appealed to the ancient vampire, gaining him a small amount of goodwill, and he'd come to Spain to prove himself worthy of his lineage. Returning to Siberia with a weapon like this vampire under his control would guarantee Yakov's favour. Running his eyes over the beautiful Latino, he considered that it wouldn't even be a hardship to flirt with him, and if he wasn't interested in a lover, he would probably respond just as well to the prospect of an ally.

Propping himself up against the wall, Guang Hong took in the angry, flustered vampire. His strength was appalling, he'd broken the smaller vampire's body effortlessly... yet he was so lost and ignorant of even the most basic things about their society.

“You want revenge on them.” It wasn't a question, the fury in Leo's eyes was unmistakable. The Latino nodded anyway, not trusting himself to speak. “Good... I do too. You're strong” the Chinese stepped forward, taking Leo's wrists again and moving into the circle of his arms, watching the other man's face register surprise and interest as he pressed against him. “Stay with me... I'll teach you about your world... _our_ world... and you'll get your chance.”

“Why would you trust me? I tried to kill you...”

“You didn't” Guang Hong said, pleased at the flare of Leo's pupils as he let the smaller vampire push him back against the opposite wall. “If you'd wanted me dead, I'd be dead. You're powerful...” he brushed his lips across Leo's jaw as he spoke and felt the Latino shiver, “stay with me, and I'll help you kill them both.”

“Leo...”

“What?”

“My name... you didn't ask...”

“Hmm...” Guang Hong smiled against the other vampires olive skin, feeling the shiver again. He waited until Leo made eye contact and then lowered his lashes, resting his fingers on the Latino's throat. “Nice to meet you, Leo” the Chinese murmured, Leo's hands resting as lightly as he could on his waist, the pressure just south of painful.

“I can't trust you. You lie too easily.” Leo moved to push him away, the reluctance to break contact obvious in the lightness of his touch. It felt like being shoved by a wave; powerful enough to knock you down, but lacking any kind of malice.

“What have I lied about?” Guang Hong demanded, pressing back against him immediately and biting back a smirk as the Latino moaned softly.

“All this... this flirting... you're trying to manipulate me. I'm not stupid...”

“I'm not lying” Guang Hong brushed his lips over Leo's jaw again, murmuring into his ear. “You're beautiful... seducing you is just a bonus.” Horrifyingly strong hands rested on his waist again, but this time Leo didn't push him away, closing his eyes instead as the Chinese vampire wrapped himself around him.

“Don't worry about it” easing his fingers under Leo's chin, he tilted his face so he could touch their lips together in a chaste kiss. The Latino sighed against his mouth, his fingers tensing. Groaning as he felt the bones in his pelvis fracture under the pressure, the smaller vampire murmured in pain. “We might need to work on your strength control as well as your education” Guang Hong added.

“Sorry... I can't help it. Everything's so breakable...” Leo released him instantly, and Guang Hong clicked his tongue softly. Wondering how the other vampire managed to interact with humans, Guang Hong put his head to one side.

“How long has it been since you were with anyone?”

Leo dropped his eyes, a flush spreading across his face. “Not since I... before I died... the downside of crushing everything I touch, is that I can't touch fragile things. Like people”

“Oh... oh, wow...” Guang Hong pulled Leo's arms back around his waist, resting his fingers on his collarbone and kissing him again. “You've been neglected” he murmured, and the Latino rolled his eyes.

“I'm hurting you already” he growled, “do you really want to risk getting into bed with me?”

“I'm fine... vampires heal, remember?”

“I've never met any other vampires... apart from _them_...”

 _“You've never..._ wait, how old are you? When were you born?”

“I have no idea, I don't know your calendar. My people use a different system.”

Kissing him firmly, Guang Hong smiled as the Latino didn't protest this time. “You have so much to learn... lucky for you, I'm an excellent teacher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... do you guys want a chapter of LeoJi smut? I'm up for it, if you are...


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LeoJi smut~

Leo had an apartment in Las Cortes, right in the centre of the city. Astonished at the beautiful location, Guang Hong gazed out of the huge windows at the throngs of people moving below as the Latino lit a few well placed lamps. Giving the other vampire the chance to explore his living space, Leo collapsed onto the sofa, mentally exhausted from the evening.

“You brought a lot of this with you from America” Guang Hong guessed. “This artwork... the figures... I've never seen anything like it.”

“They show the gods of the Mexica, the original inhabitants of South America. My mother's people.”

“South America? That's where you're from?”

“Mmm. And you? I've never seen anyone like you... you're Siberian?”

Guang Hong laughed, crossing to the sofa and curling up in Leo's lap. The Latino tensed, unsure of how to deal with the excess of physical contact, and the smaller vampire stroked his hair soothingly.

“I'm not Siberian. That's just my vampire family. Originally I'm from Bejing, in China. You don't know anything about the world, do you... how did you even get to Europe?” he added, seeing the confusion.

“I found sailors who spoke Spanish, and stowed away in their ship. Don't laugh at me” he was nearly pouting, and Guang Hong tugged Leo's arms back around him, kissing his jaw apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry... you're adorable when you're cross. Terrifying, but adorable.”

“Where's China?”

“Oh, a long way away. Where the sun rises in the morning, far across the sea to the east.”

“I don't understand...”

Lacing his fingers into Leo's shoulder length hair, Guang Hong smiled. “It's a magical place of dragons and emperors... we write in pictures, and speak in song. I miss it.”

“Why did you leave?”

“I was stolen... or perhaps thrown away, I'm not sure. My father had no use for another son, and my mother was dead... I was raised by a man who fed me, taught me letters and how to please men, and sold me to a Russian trader. I found myself in St Petersburg, being bought by a curious vampire, and eventually became one myself.”

The tone was light and careless, but Leo could hear the pain underneath the words. “You've suffered” the Latino said, touching his nose to the smaller vampire's cheek sadly.

“Life is suffering. Death is peace.”

“You want to die?”

Guang Hong laughed again. “No, no. Of course not. I... I just know that death is a peaceful place, that's all. I don't want to go there yet.”

“You're strange. I've never met anyone as strange as you.”

Resting his hands on Leo's shoulders, the Chinese shifted his weight until he was sat facing the other vampire, straddling his hips and leaning on his chest. The Latino's arms encircled his waist carefully, trying to avoid any pressure on his body. It felt like being embraced by the branches of a tree, unyielding yet reassuring.

“Are you glad you met me?”

Huge brown eyes stared up at him, agreeing wordlessly, and Guang Hong smiled. He could see the desire in Leo's expression, and the fear... that his new playmate would tire of him, or that he would kill him accidentally. He could feel the loneliness from the Latino, it came off him in waves. He sensed his own solitude and despair rise up to meet it and let the emotions move him forward, pressing his lips against Leo's with a murmur of need.

Sighing against the kiss, the Latino rested his hands on Guang Hong's spine, trying to split his focus between enjoying the almost forgotten touch, and avoiding hurting the other vampire. He could feel fingers on his throat and a soft, insistent pressure against his stomach as the other body responded to the contact. Groaning, he pulled his head back and closed his eyes, fighting the twin urges to push the other away, and to clasp him tightly.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm going to hurt you...”

“I told you, it's fine. I heal.”

“That doesn't make it fine!”

Pursing his lips, Guang Hong thought for a moment. “Where's your bed?”

“Ahhh... next door. Why...”

The Chinese stood up and held out his hand. “Trust me” he said, leading the reluctant Latino through to the other room. Making a soft noise of pleasure as he saw the bricked up window above the huge double bed, and the throws and rugs of plush fabrics that decorated the room, Guang Hong slipped out of his clothes. Staring at him in shock, Leo stuttered helplessly as his shirt and pants were tugged. Stripping for the Chinese, he came back to his senses enough to realise the other man was smirking at his guileless reaction.

“Lie down” the smaller vampire said, pointing to the bed. Leo did as he was told, leaning back into the pillows and murmuring as the Chinese sat astride his hips and leaned down to kiss him.

Taking Leo's hands, he rested them on his thighs as he deepened the kiss, running his fingers up the length of his arms to his shoulders, then down over his chest. Flicking his tongue over the Latino's lips, he smiled as the other vampire opened his mouth and met him with his own tongue. Even that muscle was powerful; pushing back against it was impossible, so he settled for stroking it with his own, purring happily at the taste of the other vampire.

“So beautiful” Leo murmured into the kiss, and Guang Hong sank his hands into his hair with a sigh of pleasure. There was a pressure growing against his thigh now, and curiously he ran his hands lower, over the thick muscles of Leo's stomach and down, winning a gasp as he closed his hand around his new lover's length.

Following the movement of his hand, he trailed kisses over Leo's throat and chest, teasing as he wriggled down his body. A nudge made the other vampire spread his legs, and Guang Hong nestled between his thighs, taking in the sight of him from this new angle. The Latino was watching him with an awestruck expression, his eyes huge and his hands trembling at his sides.

“You can't break yourself, right?”

“Wh-what??”

“Put your hands behind your head.” Leo did as he was told, clasping his wrists firmly as he leaned back on his arms. “Good...” bowing his head, Guang Hong let his lips caress the Latino's arousal, grinning at the instant twitch of his thighs and the groan that escaped his lips. He switched to the flat of his tongue, repeating the motion until Leo was fully hard before easing the length into his mouth with a moan of satisfaction.

Reeling from the confident movements of the other man, Leo clenched his hands around his own wrists desperately, fighting the urge to reach for the smaller vampire. The pleasure from the soft touches flooded him, sending long forgotten desires through his body.

“E-espere... v-ve más d-despacio...” he gasped desperately, English out of the question in his current state.

Pausing, Guang Hong lifted his head and smiled gently. “Que pasa?”

Shaking his head, Leo uncurled a hand and gestured the Chinese vampire back up his body. Resting his weight on the Latino's chest, Guang Hong kissed him, letting him taste his own flavour in his mouth.

“Ahhh... te deseo... quiero hacerte el amor...”

Although Guang Hong couldn't fully understand his words, his meaning was clear, the lust written in his face. Kissing him again, the Chinese nodded. “Like this?”

“Si... por favor...”

“Do you have oils?”

Leo nodded to the side of the bed, and the smaller vampire grinned as he found a subtly concealed box. Slicking his fingers, he settled back on the Latino's hips and eased his hand between his own thighs, moaning at the sensation and closing his eyes. Watching him preparing himself, Leo groaned and put his hands back behind his head reluctantly.

“Put your hands on my hips.”

“I... I can't...”

“Yes you can... it's OK... touch me, Leo...”

Whimpering, the Latino obeyed and Guang Hong moved his length into position, sinking down around him with a gasp of pleasure. Leo cried out as he pushed up into him, his eyes rolling back in his head at the tight, slick chill around his arousal. “D-dios mío... si... si!”

Chuckling at the breathless cursing, Guang Hong rested his hands on his chest and began to move on him, gasping at the pressure inside as he shifted his weight. Letting Leo hold him was a risky move, he could feel the tension in his hands as he tried to avoid damaging the other vampire. It felt good though, almost as good as riding him, and Guang Hong leaned back against his hands, throwing his head back as he reached for himself, quickening his thrusts with a deep moan of bliss from the pleasure inside and out.

A change in the moans from the Latino warned him; the thrusts becoming soundless, the vampire forgetting to breath as he reached his climax. A few moments of satisfaction flooded the Chinese as Leo came for him, then there was pain as the grip on his waist flexed and he felt bones grind in his pelvis. For a moment he thought the pain would be too much, then he was lost in his own orgasm as Leo's final thrusts took him over the edge.

Subsiding with a groan, Guang Hong let himself slump forward onto Leo's chest, forcing his body to heal as he shivered with pleasure. He felt Leo stroking his back as softly as he could, the heavy touches affectionate and comforting. Disengaging from him once he recovered, he lay in the crook of his arm and kissed his chest, floating on intense, possessive emotions.

“Did I hurt you?” Leo's voice was a whisper, tinged with longing and nerves.

“Couldn't you tell I enjoyed it?”

“I know you did... but that's not what I asked.” his eyes were serious, and Guang Hong sighed.

“Only a little... and only because I made you hold me.”

“Fuck...”

“Shhhh” the smaller vampire kissed him, stroking his hair to calm him. “It felt good, Leo. So good... it's been so long since I had someone I actually wanted...”

Closing his eyes, the Latino carefully rested his arms around his lover. “You should have told me when I hurt you...”

“I promise” Guang Hong nodded. “Next time.”

“Next time... you want to do this again? Get hurt _again?_ Are you insane??”

“Maybe I am... but tell me... would you ever hurt me on purpose?”

“Never!” Leo lowered his eyes, thinking back to the confrontation in the alley only a few hours ago. Guilt coloured his cheeks, and he shook his head. “I'm sorry... I'm sorry for before... I'll never do anything like that again, I promise.”

“You'll stay with me?”

Unable to put words around the emotions clawing into his heart, Leo kissed his lover until they were both panting with renewed desire.

“And if anyone tries to hurt me?”

“I'll tear them apart! Eres divino... soy feliz de compartir cada instante de mi vida a tu lado.” Seeing the confusion on his lover's face, Leo shifted his brain back into English and fretted over the intensity of his feelings, rephrasing as he translated. “For as long as you'll have me, I'm yours.”

Climbing back onto Leo's hips, Guang Hong traced the kanji for his name over the Latino's stomach, smiling as he felt the other vampire twitch underneath him. Despite the ever present threat of accidental pain, he felt safe and protected for the first time in his life. As he pressed soft kisses to his lover's smooth chest, the Chinese sighed with relief and longing. 

“Nǐ shì wǒ de... you're mine” Guang Hong murmured, and they lost themselves in each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had these scenes in my head for weeks, so happy to finally be able to share them with you <3


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: implied torture, dismemberment, murder. Character death, grief.
> 
> Apologies for the delay in updating, I've been stuck in a plot hole over the Christmas period! Dug my way out by watching American Horror Story: Hotel to keep myself in the right headspace for the finale of this story <3

The dacha was quiet and dark, the snow clad roof gleaming under the full moon. White flakes were still falling, masking the sound of the approaching figure as he made his way across the fields behind the house. Silently, he slipped over the wall into the courtyard, vanishing into the darkness of the porch as a shadow moved inside the building.

Pacing the main lounge, Yuuri paused as a flicker of movement caught his eye from outside. Staring out into the heavy snow, he frowned, looking for the source. Seeing nothing, he turned back to striding back and forwards across the room, anxiety twisting his face into a deep frown.

He could sense his sire below, in the basement. Since becoming a vampire, he had learned things about Viktor; dark, blood red things he had never wanted to know. His hearing had sharpened, so he could hear the screaming of the humans held beneath the house, despite the soundproofing on the walls and floor. The scent of fresh blood tugged at his nose and his gut, causing a longing to rise up in him each time his sire opened the throat of another sacrifice. The ritual had been going on for hours; Viktor had begun at sundown, disappearing downstairs with a determined expression and a large axe. The cutting had begun almost immediately.

Giacometti and Phichit were in Rome by now, busy keeping the Council out of Viktor's business while the First Seat carried out his preparations for their private war. Yuuri had wanted to go with them so badly, suspecting what was about to happen in the darkness beneath this house. Love held him in place, made him watch their car pull away, made him close the door and lock himself in with his sire. Loyalty made him help the sorcerer dress in dark robes and sharpen the blade of his weapon.

Another flicker of movement, and he crossed to the window, brows knitted in worry. Viktor had tasked him with security during the ritual; defending the house from any intruders. He couldn't see anything outside, but the hackles rising on the back of his neck told him there was a threat close by. Moving silently, he crossed to the hallway and froze as he saw the black clad figure standing in the open doorway.

“G-Georgi...”

The older vampire reacted instantly and Yuuri was on his back on the floor, a hand over his mouth. Leaning over him, Georgi made a gesture for silence. He put his head to the side, listening to make sure they hadn't raised an alarm. Satisfied that Viktor was unaware of his presence, the Russian turned his attention back to the young vampire beneath him.

“Where's the entrance to the basement” his voice was so low even Yuuri's vampiric hearing struggled, but once he understood the question he violently shook his head. Sighing, Georgi pressed his nose to his cheek, whispering in his ear.

“You know what he's doing is wrong. Help me stop him... before it's too late.”

Closing his eyes, Yuuri steeled his heart and shook his head again. Refusing to betray his sire, the younger vampire waited for a death blow. When it didn't come, he stared up at his Uncle in confusion.

“You're loyal. I understand that. I'm sorry for what I have to do.” Balling his fist, Georgi aimed a blow to the side of the younger vampire's skull, cracking bone on impact. Yuuri's body sagged, and the Russian stood up, assessing the damage. He could see the vampire beginning to heal already, he would only have a short time before the Japanese was back on his feet and shouting out a warning.

Yuuri had been pacing the lounge, so Georgi took a left and eased into that room. Sure enough, there was a door hidden behind a floor length curtain, giving access to the basement where the sorcerer carried out his rituals. Padding down the stairs, the vampire loosened his sword in its scabbard, drawing the weapon noiselessly as he entered a room lit by a myriad of candles. His nostrils flared at the scent of so much fresh blood, and he bit back a whimper of hunger, forcing himself to focus on the figure in the centre of the room.

“Thank you for not killing my child.”

Raising his sword, Georgi swore under his breath as Viktor turned to face him. His black robes were soaked with blood, the pieces of his victims scattered around the ritual circle. His silver hair was matted and dark, his pale skin streaked with red.

“What have you done...”

“You know _exactly_ what I've done. You've seen it before... it's why you came here.”

Georgi dropped into a defensive stance as the sorcerer stepped towards him. “Stay back...”

“Now there's no need for that. Melee has always struck me as so vulgar.” Viktor twitched his fingers and thick ropes of black spiderweb erupted from the ground around the other vampire, wrapping his limbs and dragging him to his knees. Smiling, Viktor stared at his long, pale hands with pleasure.

“Such an _effective_ ritual... it works so quickly when done on oneself. Yakov waited days for it to kick in properly.”

“It's... as I thought... you've cast it again...” Georgi spoke with difficulty, struggling to draw breath as the webs continued to wrap around him, encircling his throat.

“Tell me... what tipped you off?”

“Y-Yuri... gave me a list of components you'd gathered... and _twenty two human sacrifices...”_

 _“_ Ah. Of course, your memory was always excellent.”

Crouching in front of his brother, Viktor ran his fingers through Georgi's hair, pulling his head back to look into his eyes. “Why did you betray me, Georgi? Wasn't this everything you wanted? Yakov dead, Dimitri dust, the power in our hands...”

“It's never enough for you” Georgi spat. “When I found out about _this... this corruption..._ I knew you'd never stop... there would never be enough power for you... you're _worse_ that Yakov... you don't want to see the world burn, you want to be the one holding it hostage against the fire...”

“So dramatic. You and Yuri were always so similar... and so good at keeping secrets. You lied to me about him, you know. _Spymaster of the Council..._ I'm actually a little proud of him...”

Georgi struggled uselessly against the webs, his body nearly encased in thick black fibres. He could hear scuttling from somewhere _inside_ the webbing, feel movements against his skin as _something_ rustled around. Numbness began to spread from tiny bites and he groaned as he lost the strength to fight.

“Despite all of this, I find I still have a use for you” Viktor rose and turned away, his robes dragging in the blood pooling on the floor. “You'll be my final gesture to Yuri... the invitation that brings him home. I wonder which piece I should send him? Something he'll recognise instantly... ah! Of course...” he selected a blade from his workbench and knelt back in front of the helpless vampire.

Holding the blade up to Georgi's face, he curled his lips in a cruel smile. “He once told me the story of how you 'rescued' him from his tomb... how he thought he'd died and gone to Valhalla... the first thing he saw of you will also be the last... your big, beautiful, blue eyes...”

Yuri's scream brought everyone into the lounge, Otabek reaching the blonde first as he stood staring at the package on the table. Peering inside it, the nephilim clapped his hands over his mouth, fighting back nausea at the contents of the jar that had been delivered to the house. Backing away, he let Seung-gil examine the box, reaching to pull the trembling blonde into his arms.

“From Russia, with love” Seung-gil read the card tucked into the side of the package. “Viktor's sending you trophies?”

“G-Georgi...”

“What?! What the fuck did you just say?” Otabek cried out as Yuri crumpled to the ground, the nephilim's fists clenching uselessly at his side in shock and grief.

“It's G-Georgi... his... _he sent me his fucking eyes..._ ”

“Oh my god...”

Seung-gil closed the box as Mila appeared in the doorway, Emil and the twins hot on her heels. “Are you sure?”

“ _Of course I'm fucking sure...”_

“What happened?” Mila demanded, staring at the collapsed form of the blonde. From the top floor, Guang Hong and Leo were only just reaching the room behind her. No more than ten seconds had passed since his scream, yet Otabek knew the whole world had just changed. Hurting Yuri's uncle was more than just cruelty; it was a battlecry.

“Why would he... why would Viktor hurt Georgi?”

“He asked about the ritual... I knew he sounded worried... he must have done something... tried to stop him...”

“When did you speak to him?”

“Four days ago. He called to check in, he'd found out Christophe was there.”

Swearing, Otabek knelt beside his lover and put his hands on his shoulders. “Yuri... listen to me. Georgi might still be alive...”

“No” the blonde shook his head and pushed himself to his feet, using the nephilim to steady himself. “Georgi's a warrior. Viktor couldn't have done this while he was still alive.”

“ _Done what_ ” Mila demanded, her voice high and tense. Seung-gil glanced at the blonde, then opened the package again as Yuri nodded.

“Oh god...” Guang Hong tried to peer past her and she caught hold of him, crushing him back against the immovable form of Leo stood behind him. “Don't look” she admonished him, shaking her head.

“Let him see” Yuri snarled, and Mila lowered her arms, blood tears on her cheeks. “Let him see what our father is capable of.”

Staring at the blonde, Guang Hong stepped forward and his face crumpled as he looked into the box. Closing his eyes, he rested his fingers against the glass jar then whimpered, turning into Leo's protective embrace. “He's dead” he confirmed, covering his face with his hands. “I... I can feel it. He was dead before Viktor... before he did this to him.”

“May you rest in the hall of your fathers” Yuri muttered in Old Norse, Emil echoing the words from the other side of the room. Otabek wrapped his arms around himself, shuddering as Seung-gil closed the box again, holding the card between his fingers. There was a blood stain on the small white square which held the nephilim's attention in a morbid grip.

“I need some air” Yuri grabbed his jacket and strode out the front door, barely remembering to check for onlookers before racing away down the street, his speed making him an unnoticed blur to passers by. Otabek found himself unconsciously monitoring his location as he listened to the talk in the room, making sure the grieving blonde didn't get too far away. The bond between them hummed with pain and rage as the vampire ran, needing to feel the wind on his face and the earth beneath his feet as his emotions surged within him.

“You're not going after him?” Emil's voice was soft, and Otabek looked up into the eyes of the concerned Varangian.

“No... I know where he is. He just needs to run for a while...”

“What do we do about... about Georgi?” Mila's voice had firmed, fury replacing horror in her tone.

“Yuri will decide what do to with his... remains” Guang Hong said, resting his hand on the box again. The Chinese vampire's intimacy with death meant the grisly package held no fear for him, and he picked it up sadly. Leo's expression clearly indicated he was less comfortable, but he kept his silence. “Until then, I will do what I can to make sure his soul is at peace. Viktor hasn't done anything to it yet... if I can keep it from his grasp, I will.”

“You can do that with just...”

“Yes... but I'll need your help, Otabek. I need a safe space to work in, so Viktor doesn't use the connection to hurt me.”

Rising, the nephilim nodded. “We can use the empty suit, I'll set up a warded space for you.”

“The ritual he was working on... do you think Georgi stopped him?”

“I don't know... we don't even know what it was _for._ ” Tapping his fingers on his arm, Otabek frowned. “We have to assume the worst – that the ritual was successful, and that it somehow made Viktor more powerful. Operate on that basis going forward.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Mila asked, and Otabek looked grim.

“Viktor _wants_ us to attack him. 'From Russia with love'... he's trying to bait us there.” Sighing, Otabek shook his head. “We can't defeat him there. Its his home ground, he's too powerful.” Gazing at Mila and Seung-gil, Otabek considered the likely scale of their pooled resources and power, and narrowed his eyes. “Between you, you need to find a way to get Viktor out of Siberia.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still really sick, the joys of chronic illness and rubbish mental health! Ah well... Updating when I can. 
> 
> I'm also editing "Bloody Love" at the moment; no content changes, just fixing the horrible grammar and improving the flow.

Modern Maine wasn't an ideal place for a Roman funeral, but they did their best.

Guang Hong spent hours in the warded suite, working with air drying clay to create a burial urn inlaid with protective symbols, designed to hold the cremated remains that were available to them. Meanwhile, Emil collected firewood from his house, helping Yuri create a pyre in the back garden while Otabek warded the space they planned to use for the funeral. After the incident with the fake Yuuri, the nephilim was taking no chances on safety when they were gathered outside of the house. Unable to carry out a traditional procession, they made do with carrying the remains to the funeral pyre as formally as they could.

The fire was small, but so were the remains. Kenjirou volunteered to prepare Georgi for the pyre, unphased by the grim task as he was by most things relating to death and decay. He took the jar away, and a few hours later handed Yuri a beautifully made origami box, crafted from sturdy layers of pure white paper. Yuri, Mila and Guang Hong spent a few minutes each with it, before Yuri placed it on top of the logs. The vampires instinctively pulled back from the fire as Otabek set the wood alight, but after a few moments Yuri forced himself forward, getting as close to the fire as he dared. Emil joined him, and they paid homage to a fallen warrior in their own way.

Mila wrote a Eulogy, and delivered it with tears in her voice, Sara's arm around her waist protectively. It was short but echoed the simple sentiments of the rest of the family; that Georgi had been brave, honourable and loved. Watching the three of them lost in their grief, Otabek was reminded once again how deeply vampires could feel pain and sorrow. His memories of Georgi were fond and he felt his own loss, but he had known him mere months. The others had centuries of memories, and their mourning would be equally as long.

Once it was done, Yuri, Mila and Guang Hong gathered up the ashes into the urn while the others prepared the last part of the funeral rites. A feast was laid out in the main lounge; plates of food and bottles of blood for the vampires. Yuri set the filled Urn in the centre of the table, and then they ate and drank for hours, swapping stories in memory of their uncle and bidding his spirit farewell. Finally, the next day the twins took the urn to the Catholic graveyard to hide it, the last part of the protection from Viktor they could offer Georgi's soul.

The next few days were hectic. Yuri was in a foul temper, taking his rage out on anyone who strayed too close. Mila and Emil vacated the house, taking the twins back to the Varangian's place out of harms way. Seung-gil and Kenjirou hid, venturing out only when Yuri was safely in his suite.

Otabek had no such defence, and put up with the bulk of his anger. Understanding that the venting was Yuri's way of avoiding a complete meltdown, he tolerated as much as he could. Until Yuri crossed a line and he snapped, their row costing another set of doors and furniture for the suite. No magic was thrown around this time, and Otabek kept enough of his cool to avoid breaking the house structurally. They mostly just screamed at each other and threw things, avoiding any permanent damage. Once they were done yelling, they spent two days avoiding each other until the separation became too much. In the end, the vampire decided to make peace, driven mostly by hunger for Otabek's blood.

Finding Otabek curled up on the couch reading in one of the empty vampire-safe suites, where he'd been sleeping for the last two nights, Yuri attempted to extend an olive branch by sitting on the end of the sofa silently, waiting for the nephilim to acknowledge him. After a few moments, Otabek lowered his book and raised an eyebrow.

“I'm not going to apologise.”

“Oh?”

“There's no point. Sorry means 'I won't do it again' and we both know I will.”

Otabek closed his book and folded his arms across his chest. “Then why are you here?”

“To make it up to you.”

“Without apologising.”

“Yes.”

The nephilim stood up, glaring at the blonde. “You think we can just have sex and everything will be fine?”

“That was sort of my plan, yes.”

Otabek stormed out of the house, slamming every door on the way out.

Yuri was sat on the stairs when Otabek came back, an hour before dawn. Watching the nephilim stomp into the house, the blonde sighed with relief. He had been prepared to panic completely if the nephilim hadn't returned before sun up.

“Let's try this again. I'm sorry for being so rude to you, Otabek.”

Otabek glared at him, silently.

“Isn't that what you want to hear?”

“I'm going to bed.”

“For fucks sakes! What do you _want_ from me?”

The nephilim narrowed his eyes. “You think I don't know why you're lashing out at me? _I get it_... but you need to understand that what you did to me afterwards... _that's_ _not OK!_ You don't feel even remotely bad about it, do you?”

Staring at the Kazakh with his mouth open as understanding dawned, Yuri went very pale and began to tremble, his eyes becoming unfocused as he thought back to the days leading up to the row. He'd been rude, he'd even gone so far as to order the nephilim out of his sight a few times, but that had just been poor behaviour, it wasn't what had made the nephilim snap. After days of that, the blonde had tried to force him onto the bed, intending to feed or have sex, probably both. Otabek had refused to allow it and physically pushed him away, and Yuri had lost his temper at being denied.

Watching Yuri's reaction, Otabek leaned against the wall and waited for the blonde to work it through in his mind. Tolerating the verbal abuse had been one thing, but the days of the blonde vampire using his body as he pleased were long over. As soon as it happened, Otabek knew he had to draw a line or it would become the pattern for their fights. Yuri trying to make everything OK with the offer of make-up sex had just rubbed salt into the wound.

“I... I treated you like a _pet”_ Yuri murmured, his voice tinged with horror. “H-how could I do that...”

“Habit I expect” Otabek said, nastily, then frowned as scarlet tears slid down the vampire's face, ignoring the ache in his heart with difficulty. “Do you understand why I'm angry?”

“I... I'm sorry...”

“Then you tried to 'make it up to me'... by doing exactly the same thing, just manipulating me instead of forcing me...”

“Fuck... _I'm so sorry_...”

“I'm going to bed” Otabek pushed past him. “Make sure this doesn't happen again. Otherwise it's just empty words, like you said earlier.” Steeling himself against the sight of the slumped vampire, he deliberately left Yuri sobbing on the stairs.

When the vampire returned to his suite a few hours later, he found Otabek curled up in his bed, fully dressed and wrapped in the duvet. Glad that he'd at least returned to the suite, the vampire slipped under the sheets next to him, carefully avoiding touching the nephilim. They lay like that for a while, until Yuri felt a warm arm wrap over his chest and bit back a whimper of relief. Tucking his head against Otabek's shoulder, the blonde closed his eyes and murmured “I'm so sorry, my love”, pressing tightly against his nephilim until the sun came up and robbed him of consciousness.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to reduce the frequency of updates to this fic, so from now on it will be updated weekly on a Sunday. This is my attempt to balance my health and other projects, as well as develop a bit of consistency in quality in my work! Hopefully, having a week to work on each chapter will mean better writing <3
> 
> My newest project has just launched: [Legacy](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1245668), an Occult OtaYuri AU that is hopefully going to be awesome XD 
> 
> I'm also gearing up to apply for a few OtaYuri Bangs via Tumblr, so if you're involved in that please give me a shout! My social links are at the end of the fic.

“The Council have called an emergency meeting.” Seung-gil's usually blank face was twisted in a self satisfied smile, an astonishingly chilling sight.

“Viktor will be expected to attend?”

“His presence has been specially requested by the Third Seat herself. She owed me a favour” the Korean added, noticing the sceptical look Yuri was giving him.

“What good does that do us?” Mila demanded, “we can't exactly interrupt a Council meeting to give him a slap.”

“No, but we _can_ ambush him on his way there” Yuri explained, “we know exactly where he'll be going, after all. No matter what he does, he'll have to travel to Italy. I can spread out my network and pick up his transport plans.”

“What about the Council? They have an agreement of safe passage to and from their meetings...”

“Sophism is a wonderful thing” the blonde grinned. “The agreement is protection from _other Council members, their retainers or associates._ The wording is very clear and signed by the founders of the Council. No one can argue with it. As long as Seung-gil and Emil stay out of the fight, there won't be a problem. The rest of us are associated _with Viktor_ , ergo not any other Council members.”

“I thought Emil was coming with us though” Otabek frowned, and Yuri grinned again. “He is... for a very specific target. Christophe. He's going to keep Christophe out of our fight... again, not interfering with Viktor in any way, and not technically interfering with Celestino either, since Christophe won't be there on his orders. I checked” he added, “Celestino ordered him back to America last week, but he's stayed hidden in Rome against his sire's wishes. He's there to help Viktor, but it's left him unprotected, politically speaking.”

Otabek looked perplexed. “This all feels familiar somehow.”

“It should” Yuri agreed, eyeing Guang Hong warily. “It's the same game Viktor and I played when we went after Yakov. Using the Council's politics and bureaucracy against them.”

The Chinese vampire made a curious noise. “The Council knew about Yakov?”

“Sort of” Yuri wrinkled his nose, and Guang Hong frowned at him.

“You still don't trust me. Even though I helped you deal with the house... and I'm going after Viktor _with_ you...”

“Don't take it personally, I trust exactly two people in this world, and one of them is me...” Yuri touched his fingers against Otabek's hip, wordlessly finishing his sentence.

Tucking the blonde into his arms, Otabek looked impressed. “Your scheming is unrivalled. Every time I think I know what you're planning, you surprise me again. I assume you have backup plans?”

“Dozens” Yuri agreed, sighing happily as he was embraced. “The most important things are splitting our forces correctly.”

“About that... what have you decided?”

The strike teams left Portland a week later just after sundown, under layers of cover; false ID's, decoy ticket purchases and a variety of physical disguises to match their new passports. Otabek, Mila and Leo travelled together, with Emil, Yuri and Guang Hong in the other group. Tensions were still too high between the old enemies to let Leo travel alone with the Varangians, and Yuri knew Viktor would be looking for him and Otabek as a pair. The split was uncomfortable for both of them as the flights to France were staggered, but they knew they had to tolerate the separation.

Leaving Seung-gil at the house with the humans was a calculated risk; Viktor could potentially launch another attack, but there was no way Sara, Michele and Kenjirou could be anywhere near the battle or the sorcerer would definitely use them as weapons or bait. Seung-gil's agility and strength would have been useful in the fight, but the humans couldn't be left unprotected. Keeping the Korean behind to guard them gave him an alibi for the attack on the Second Seat. Once the strike teams left, he would get in touch with his grandmother and help her keep the other Council members out of the way while the Siberian family dealt with their sire.

The goodbyes between the twins and their lovers was emotional. Mila and Emil were both struggling to contain their distress at leaving the humans behind, and for once, Yuri could empathise with their pain. His bond with Otabek had given him a new perspective on relationships, and he rode in the taxi with his oldest friend without comment as the Varangian wept. When they arrived at Boston airport he wordlessly wiped the bloody tears from the taller vampire's face, his usually sharp green eyes soft and understanding.

His own parting from Otabek had been difficult for both of them. They hadn't even made love before they left, just lay together listening to the sounds of the house getting ready and bathing in the warmth of their bond. The more they practised drawing on it, the more they could feel it when at rest. When they were physically touching it hummed happily, wrapping around them both and pulsing with heat. It reminded Yuri of being immersed in water, a similar sense of being surrounded and invisibly held afloat.

When the taxi pulled away from the house and the distance between them began to grow, that blissful feeling of immersion faded and was replaced with a deep sense of _wrongness_. Yuri found himself looking around for what he'd left behind, battling an overwhelming sensation of having misplaced something important. It was accompanied by grief, a yawning pit in his stomach, painful and filled with hopelessness. The idea of expressing his emotions to anyone was repugnant, but Yuri could see them mirrored in Emil's reaction to leaving Michele behind. For the first time in all the centuries they'd been friends, Yuri understood with agonising clarity what Emil went through every time he lost a lover. He could see why the subsequent hibernation was the only option for the Varangian's sanity.

Yuri, Emil and Guang Hong were flying to the Leonardo Da Vinci airport via Naples, with the intention of meeting Otabek's group on the ground in Rome. The other group was travelling from Boston to Rome directly, since Otabek needed to get to the city as quickly as possible and begin making magical preparations. The Moscow Twins had pinpointed Viktor's travel plans, digging through several false trails to confirm he would be flying into Ciampino airport before travelling by private car to the Council meeting later that night. Leo was to select the best spots for ambush on the likely routes he would take, and Otabek would lay traps. Viktor hadn't booked a hotel or made any deposits on apartments in the city so Yuri suspected he would stay with Celestino at the First Seat's villa, probably going directly there after the meeting. It was essential that the group engaged him before he got to the Council chambers and met up with the Italian, or they'd lose their best chance for a successful attack.

The flights were everything most vampires hated about mixing with humans; overcrowded, disorganised, noisy and malodorous. Enclosed in a small space, the scent of human blood, sweat and filth was overwhelming. Of course Emil was instantly comfortable, focusing on the distraction of talking with strangers and helping humans with their luggage. For Yuri, Guang Hong, Mila and Leo, who had far less experience with people and very little interest in them outside of mealtimes, the trip was hellish.

Otabek spent most of the flight asleep against the window, as a defence against the stressed auras of the vampires with him. Without his usual comfort zone of Yuri's fury, he was unwillingly exposed to them whenever he was awake. Leo was worrying about Guang Hong's absence, and admitted that it was the first time they'd been apart since they travelled to America over a year ago. Clearly he didn't trust Emil and Yuri alone with his lover, but he knew better than to speak openly against them. Instead he visibly brooded and his aura pounded with darkness and distrust.

Outwardly, Mila was inscrutable and calm, but her aura was a hectic mess of fear and nervous anticipation. She sat silently in the aisle seat, her eyes fixed on her phone as she continued to work the angles she would need when they got to Rome. Her part in the plan was vitally important; not only was she a fighter, but her contacts were key to covering up the violence that was about to erupt. They all knew Viktor would have no concerns about throwing magic around, and Otabek would almost certainly need to use his more powerful form to counter that. It was essential that the human population never found out about demonic monsters, horrific spells and vampiric strength clashing in Italy's capital city.

Between Yuri's control of all things computer related, and Mila's network of political contacts, they were prepared to immediately shut down access to the areas of combat, control the movement of humans and information within the city, even evacuate Rome if needed. Mila would be the one making those decisions, based on the evolving situation on the ground. Her network was temporarily linked to the Moscow Twins, and the moment she gave the word or her contact with them was broken, they were prepared to act.

It was clear though that she was worried about more than just her role in containment and clean-up. Since the invasion of the house in Portland she had been working on her stamina, explaining that for the first time in centuries she felt weak in comparison to the threat facing them. Her abilities seemed formidable; Otabek had watched her practising for hours, tossing objects around the lounge, lifting the heavy couches high into the air, and making tiny adjustments to the sound system and moving fragile things, all without shifting from her spot in the middle of the room. She had improved her endurance markedly, but she knew facing Viktor in a fight would be an entirely different matter and there was no way to practise for that. She was going to have to rely on her knowledge of her sire and her relatively untested instincts for battle, and she fretted silently as they travelled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mila backstory incoming! <3


	28. Chapter 28

_Naples, four years ago_

One of Mila's favourite things about the 21st century was the relative irrelevance of males. The scarlet haired vampire took in the mostly female crowd in the room, smiling to herself. The dark looks on the few ignorant men that had wandered into the bright pink florescence of the club's side room made her laugh out loud. The women around them ignored them and simply enjoyed each other's company.

“Something funny, princess?”

The woman beside her was beautiful in a clinical way, all blonde hair and expensive surgery. Mila gave her a warm smile, tilting her drink towards her as she pushed herself away from the bar. Not her type, but being polite was a habit by now.

The trip had been exhausting, all cut-throat politics and overblown egos. She'd played various roles, adjusting her appearance, personality and voice frequently as she worked her way through Europe's business elite, cashing in favours, pulling strings and finalising deals, all in the name of her beloved sire's schemes and plans. Satisfied with her achievements over the last few months, Mila had taken one look at the empty five star hotel room and decided to treat herself to an evening of _being herself._ Two minutes with Google maps and she found her way to one of Naples' premium LGBT+ friendly bars for the evening.

A soft laugh drew her attention as she prowled the room, and she cast a searching look in the direction of a small group centred around a stunning woman and a scowling man. The male received no more than a cursory glance; Mila could tell from his scent and the tilt of his features that he was the woman's sibling, not her partner. The woman was the focus of her attention, and after a quick word with a barman, she made her way across the club to their table.

Sliding into a seat as near to the brunette as she could manage, she waved a hand in greeting as several chilled bottles of champagne were delivered, along with an array of shots. Draping her arm over the back of the male's chair, she leaned across his body to press a glass into his sister's hand, ignoring the shocked reactions of those around them. The siblings had violet eyes, a rare trait that she hadn't seen since the sixteenth century.

“Celebrate with me” she purred, handing out glasses to the rest of the group with an open, friendly smile. “I just finished a hellish month of business deals, and I know absolutely no-one in this city to congratulate myself with.”

The target of her extravagant gesture laughed, taking the champagne and running her unusual eyes over the vampire. Her expression in that brief assessment told Mila everything she needed to know, and the redhead returned the look as she sipped her champagne. Subtle communication was an ancient art between women who preferred women, and the rest of the group recognised it instantly. Chuckling, they glanced at the male, who looked about ready to explode in outrage at being sidelined and so blatantly dismissed.

“Do you have a name?” The woman spoke fluent Italian with a local accent, unsurprising considering her olive skin and glorious fall of long, silky dark hair. The vampire leaned back, watching with interest as the motion drew the human towards her, the sister mirroring the dismissal of her sibling as she leaned towards the redhead.

“Mila” the reply was soft and pulled the woman even closer, making her brother splutter with indignation. Sighing at his noises of outrage, the brunette stood up and offered the vampire her hand.

“Do you dance, Mila?”

The silk gloves the redhead wore hid the chill of her skin as she twined their fingers together, leading the woman away from her group and onto the dance floor. Aware of the angry brother's gaze, she moved to whisper into the woman's ear as they began to move to the music.

“Your brother is very possessive of you.”

“He's a pain” her voice sounded tired as she talked about him, shaking her head. “Forget about him... he doesn't own me.”

Mila had a suspicion about what he _might_ want to do with his sister, but bit it back with a smile. Incest had gone out of fashion in recent centuries, after all. Handling the human carefully, she kept the distance between them as small as possible, letting her hands rest on the brunette's slender waist. She could feel strong muscles moving under toned skin and the tight fabric of her dress, as the woman writhed under her fingers. Concentrating on the beat, she forced herself into a similar modern rhythm that didn't suit her, but that she knew was expected.

To her surprise, the human noticed her discomfort. “You're classically trained” she said, shifting her weight and wrapping an arm around Mila's waist. “Don't force yourself to be like everyone else, you're far too beautiful for that. Dance with me the way you want to...”

Lips curling into the first genuine smile in months, Mila adjusted her gentle grip on the human and tuned into the music properly. Her movements changed, quickly pulling her dance partner into a fast foxtrot, keeping the steps restrained enough to avoid bumping into the people around them. The Italian in her arms laughed in delight, following the steps easily and gleefully.

Their dance became wilder as they took the measure of each others skills. Mila instinctively lead each new movement, her partner taking up the traditional female side with confidence. In only a few steps they were the centre of attention, a circle of adoring dancers watching and clapping for them at the end of each track. They danced a foxtrot, a waltz and even tried a tango, finishing the last by collapsing into giggles and staggering towards the bar, arms around each others waists.

Grabbing a large glass of water, the woman tucked herself into Mila's embrace and twisted her fingers into her scarlet locks as she sipped, before offering her a drink from the same glass. Taking it, their fingers touched again and she smiled.

“I'm Sara.”

“It's lovely to meet you, Sara. You dance beautifully.”

“So do you... when you're not trying to fit in.”

“Ahh... old habit, I'm afraid. Too many years spent trying to avoid frightening the menfolk.”

“Men” Sara rolled her eyes in sympathy, and the pair laughed affectionately. “No... I don't hate men... some men are very nice. They definitely have their appeal. Do you agree?”

“I don't.” Mila shook her head, watching as the violet eyes darkened in concern. “They've never appealed to me. Does that bother you?”

“That depends. Does me liking men as well as women bother you?”

“Of course not” Mila smiled, shaking her head. “Why would it?”

“Some women don't like it... they're only interested in other lesbians.”

“Ah” Mila said, delicately. Taking Sara's hand, she raised it to her face and brushed her lips across her knuckles, keeping the movement soft to limit the chill. “Politics” she added, and Sara laughed, relief evident as her shoulders relaxed.

“Sara!” the angry voice of her sibling reached them as he joined them at the bar. “Where have you been?”

“Dancing. What do you want, Mickey?”

“To leave. I've had enough, and I'm starving” he snarled, glaring at Mila. To her credit, his sibling gave him a disgusted look before turning a more apologetic one to the redhead in her arms.

“My twin brother, Michele. Michele, this is Mila.”

“I'm too hungry to care. Can we go?”

“Mickey...”

“Why don't we all go?” Mila smiled, and they both stared at her. “I haven't eaten yet tonight either. My hotel has really good room service, and I can call you both a cab when we're done?”

Michele's face telegraphed the rejection even before he opened his mouth, and Sara quickly flung an arm around his neck. “That sounds wonderful, thank you! Much better than late night street food... we'd love to join you!”

“So do you _ever_ get time alone?”

Michele had lasted as long as he could, but his bladder eventually betrayed him and he'd been forced to leave the women alone while he used the bathroom. Mila seized the chance, turning to the brunette as she spoke. She discovered the human only an inch away from her face, and realised Sara had done exactly the same thing. They exchanged a knowing look and laughed, shaking their heads.

“How long are you in Naples?”

Technically, her flight was the following night. “As long as I want to be. I have no pressing need to return to America.”

Sara gave the room an appraising look, taking in the expensive dresses, the real diamond jewellery and her obviously costly designer luggage, already packed to go. “You're American? You speak such good Italian... and your accent...”

“Languages are part of my job... and I lived in Russia for a long time... before that, France. I'm a bit of a mongrel, I suppose.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Alaska.” Sara's eyes dropped, disappointment on her face. Mila tilted her chin, making those stunning violet eyes meet hers again. “I'm in absolutely no rush to go home. I can stay... if you want me to.”

“How can you say that... or think I could ask that... I've only just met you!”

“My work is international... and another evening with you is reason enough to remain here.” She watched the blush spread over the human's face and smiled, dropping her eyes to the pale rose of her lips. “Ask me to stay” she purred, wrapping a strand of dark hair around her fingers. As they heard the door to the bathroom unlock, Sara rested her nose against Mila's for a moment as she whispered a response, then pulled away before her brother returned.

_Stay..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to explore some of the MilaSara dynamic for a while, I just couldn't find a way to fit it in organically. Now I can! Yay! More info next chapter!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut <3

“I had a wonderful night.”

Mila handed the brunette a glass of wine and curled up next to her on the couch, a smile hovering on her lips. “I'm glad... the ballet has always been a favourite of mine.”

“The meal was exquisite too.” Sara moved closer to the other woman, resting her arm on Mila's shoulder and twisting a lock of scarlet hair between her fingers. “You're treating me like a queen.”

“As you deserve” Mila pointed out, leaning into the light touch. Violet eyes flickered down to her lips, and she sighed as she let the brunette pull her into a soft kiss. Unable to disguise the chill of her skin, she pulled back after only a moment. “Sara... I need to tell you something.”

“That you're not a normal woman? I already know that.”

Startled, Mila stared at her. “W-what do you mean, you already know?”

Sara laughed. “The way you dance, speak, move... the way your skin feels like ice no matter how warm the room is... you can't disguise it.”

“You're not afraid?”

“I don't know yet. Tell me what you are.”

Rising and crossing to the window, Mila wrapped her arms around her chest as she looked out across Naples. The view from Sara's fourteenth floor apartment was stunning, but she barely saw it as her mind worked. She had been caught off guard by humans before, they were sometimes very perceptive... but still, she preferred to test the waters of their scepticism first, and build up a little more trust before she told the whole truth.

“Firstly, you must understand... my desire for you is as human as you can imagine. I have no desire to hurt you, or take anything from you that you do not freely give. I am... somewhat unusual in that regard, amongst my kind.”

Sara thought about that. “So you pursued me for a relationship?”

“Yes. That was my hope, at least.”

“I like the sound of that” Sara smiled, standing and joining Mila at the window. Taking the redhead's hands, she put her head on one side. “Tell me.”

“I am a vampire.”

“A... a vampire... as in, Dracula, Twilight, blood sucking fetish porn...”

“Nothing so romantic” Mila's eyes sparkled with amusement, and the brunette laughed out loud. “The blood part is real though. As is the immortality.”

Retrieving her wine for a grounding sip, Sara eyed the other woman. “But you don't want my blood?”

“I do not intend to ask you for it, correct.”

“That's cryptic.”

Mila sighed. “A vampire's bite can be a great source of pleasure to humans. It can become addictive... as addictive as any kink. I do not inflict that upon people unless they specifically ask for it. For the most part, I have... alternative sources of food.”

“Let me see if I understand this” Sara paced the room, throwing glances at the redhead as she spoke. “So you are an immortal vampire who drinks blood, but the only reason you seduced me is because you found me attractive, and wanted a love affair with me?”

“That's right.”

“Forgive me darling, but that sounds improbable.”

“It's the truth” Mila removed her gloves and offered her hand, and after a moment Sara took it, running her fingers curiously over her cold skin. “I meet very few women who make me laugh despite myself... who dance as you do, smile as you do... you are everything I desire. I haven't met anyone like you for nearly two hundred years.” Watching Sara's eyes widen, she shook her head. “If I just wanted your blood, I would have simply seduced you into my bed and taken what I wanted, and you would never have know what I am.”

Moving into the circle of Mila's arms, the brunette laced her fingers behind the vampire's neck. “That's why you offered to stay in Naples...”

“We can go wherever you want” Mila said, and Sara raised an eyebrow. “The world is mine, and I will give it to you. If you want me to stay here, I will. Just let me remain at your side.”

“You have a flare for the romantic” Sara's lips twitched in a smile and she touched her nose to Mila's cheek. “What about Alaska?”

“My coven will be fine for a few decades without me. I can carry out my tasks from here.”

“A few decades... until I die, you mean?”

“A little morbid, but yes. Or until you grow weary of seeing my unchanging face...”

Running her fingers over Mila's throat, Sara pressed a sweet, soft kiss behind Mila's ear and murmured “how could I ever grow weary of such beauty?”

They moved into the bedroom, exchanging slow, chaste kisses as Sara lit her candles, unhurried and full of anticipation. Slipping her hands under the fabric of Mila's dress, the brunette eased it up and over her head with a sigh of contentment, her eyes feasting on the pale skin unveiled. The chill of the vampire's flesh sank into her as they wrapped their arms around each other, and she murmured softly against the redhead's shoulder.

“I'm sorry... I know I'm cold.”

“Does anything warm you up?”

“Only blood...”

Pushing Mila onto her back, Sara deliberately stripped for her, piling her clothes on the floor with a smirk. The sheer, rich satin of her dress was joined by her underwear, and she stood before her as the vampire took her in, eyes wide.

“My god Sara... you're so...”

Further adoration was cut off as the brunette rested a knee beside her, sinking fingers into scarlet hair and capturing her lips. In moments they were lost in each other, the human delighting in every gasp and moan she pulled from her unnatural lover. Stretching out beside each other on the bed, Sara cried out as ice cold fingers trailed over her skin, wandering slowly, teasingly down to her hips.

“Let me touch you...”

“Yes... anything you want... oh god...”

Eyes slipping shut, Sara tipped her head back and whimpered as she felt chilled fingertips easing her thighs apart. Mila followed the movement with soft strokes into the valley of her flesh, before purring into her ear.

“Let me _taste_ you...”

“ _Yes... oh god, yes...”_

Kisses moved swiftly over Sara's throat and collar, pausing at a nipple for a brief moment before Mila nestled into position and her fingers were joined by the shockingly cold tip of her tongue. The human arched off the bed at the sensation, hands sinking into her lover's hair.

In moments, Sara was gasping and her grip had moved to the sheets as she twitched beneath Mila's experienced, sinful tongue. Long licks over her labia met the gentle work of her fingers as she stroked her lover's walls, until she could hear the moans taking on a continuous, breathless sound. Then she shifted her focus to the sensitive peak of her clitoris, drawing rapid circles with her chilled, agile tongue. The taste of the human rolled over her, the vampire's lust for blood almost overwhelmed by the desire to hear her lover climax.

Careful to avoid using her claws, Mila held Sara's hip with her free hand as she massaged deep inside the human and licked faster circles onto the swelling bud. The brunette was gasping now, her whole body twitching as she fell into the sensations. A few more minutes took her to the point of crying out, and then Mila smiled as she heard the sounds change, switching to desperate exhales and deep cries. Clenching around Mila's fingers, Sara coiled like a spring as she came, her hands digging into the sheets and her moans driving pure lust into the vampire between her thighs.

Stroking her until she subsided with a soft sigh, Mila pressed her lips to Sara's thigh and prepared to move up her body. The human stopped her by sinking her fingers into her hair, opening her eyes and looking down at the vampire.

“You said you wanted to taste me.”

“I did... you taste beautiful.”

“That's not all you wanted to taste, was it?”

Mila lowered her eyes, resting her cheek against Sara's thigh. “No... but I told you I wouldn't ask for that...”

“I'm offering. I... I want to know what it feels like...”

Staring up into violet eyes hooded with desire, Mila felt every last drop of self restraint pour out of her. With an adoring moan, she pushed Sara's thigh flat onto the bed and rested her thumb over the still throbbing peak of her clitoris, rubbing in a slow, soft circle and making the human murmur. With one last look into her lover's eyes, she bared her fangs and eased them into the willing flesh below her.

The pleasure from the bite washed over her and joined with the motion of Mila's thumb. Sara dissolved into breathy moans as she came again, stronger than the first time. Every nerve in her body seemed concentrated deep inside her, and her walls pulsed and throbbed. Crying softly with bliss, she barely felt Mila curl up next to her and pull her into her arms. Long minutes passed before she felt able to look up at the redhead, and when she saw the worshipful expression on Mila's face she sighed happily.

“You liked that as much as I did...”

“More” Mila kissed her, and Sara moaned from the taste of herself mixed with the coppery tang of blood.

“Do you... can you experience human pleasure too?”

“Oh yes...”

“Good. I'd hate to be greedy.” Sara propped herself up on her elbow and gazed at the vampire with a smirk. “I probably can't match that with just my tongue... so I have some toys I want to show you...”

“You told me you'd stay here.”

“I know... I'm so sorry. I wasn't expecting to be recalled to Alaska... it's never happened before.”

Sara gazed out of the window, watching the rain fall over London. Sympathetic fallacy... the moment when the weather matches your mood perfectly. England was crying with her.

“You said we'd be together until I died... it's barely been six months...”

“Sara...” the vampire's voice was broken and she was biting back sobs, but the human refused to turn around. Seeing Mila's tears would be the undoing of her.

“Just go... if you have to go, just go. Please... I can't bear this pain a moment longer.”

“Sara...”

“Stop saying my name!” The brunette finally turned, anger outweighing her grief. “How dare you do this to me! You promised me the world, Mila... you showed me things I could never have imagined... and now you're going to leave me??”

Shaking her head, Mila buried her face in her hands. The summons from Viktor had arrived the previous evening, ordering the whole coven back to Alaska. Seung-gil and Christophe were outside of America too, apparently. The thought of Yuri and Viktor alone together in the house had amused her for a brief moment, before she'd realised the summons wasn't just for a brief meeting... Viktor was demanding all of them relocate to the coven house for the foreseeable future. The tone of the message had left no doubt... they were preparing for the final phase of the plan.

“ _I don't want to leave you._ I... I can't explain why but I have no choice.”

“Take me with you.”

The world went still and cold, and Mila stared at her lover in horror. “No! Absolutely not... Sara, that place is hell. It's... it's poison... I would never want you within a thousand miles of it!”

“If it's so terrible, why do you want to go back there?!”

“I don't _want_ to...” groaning, Mila dragged her hands through her hair. “My sire... the vampire that made me... he's ordered me to return. He _never_ gives out orders like that... so I know this is serious.”

“Even more reason for me to go with you... if it's serious, you might not be able to come back, right?”

“Sara...”

“You promised me you'd stay with me... and I promised you that I'd go anywhere with you. We've travelled across most of Europe together... yet now you're trying to send me away. It's _bullshit,_ Mila. Take me with you.”

Desperately trying to recover her wits from the shock of Sara's demand, Mila rose and wrapped her arms around the human. “In that place... you would be nothing. Nothing. A pet, at best... at worst, food or a toy. The vampires there... none of them think about humans the way I do... you'd be a slave! I will not do that to you!”

“I'm already a slave” Sara's voice was soft, but her words cut Mila to the bone. “I'm a slave to your love... your kiss... your bite... if you don't take me with you, I'll travel to Alaska myself and knock on every door until I find you.”

“Don't say that...”

“ _I will._ Don't ever doubt me!” Violet eyes flashing, Sara sank her fingers into Mila's hair and pressed their foreheads together. “Do you believe what I say?”

“Y-yes...”

“Then you'll take me with you. I'll be your pet, or whatever it takes... and when this is done, we can leave that place and become ourselves again.”

“ _You could die there.”_

“Then I'll die with you... that was always the plan, right? We just thought we'd have more time...”

“Oh Sara... my love... this isn't what I wanted for us.” Mila rested her cheek on Sara's shoulder, bloody tears dripping onto her tanned skin. Laughing softly, Sara stroked her back and held her as she cried.

“Life isn't fair, beautiful girl. You've been alive nearly eight hundred years, yet you don't know that?”


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been looking forward to writing this chapter for a while, but dreading it at the same time ^_^ <3

_Rome, now_

The driver growled something obscene in Italian as he was forced to take yet another diversion. Sitting in the back seat, fingers idly stroking his unresponsive child's hair, Viktor frowned and watched as a worker in a florescent vest waved them down a side street. At 11pm Rome was still busy, but they were slowly being diverted to quieter and quieter areas of the city.

Beside him, Yuuri gazed out of the opposite window in silence. It had been two weeks since he had helped Viktor dispose of Georgi's body, and he had barely spoken since that awful day. The death had been terrible, but Viktor's savage joy at the mutilation of his corpse was horrifying to watch. The last mask had been torn away, and the monstrous nature of his sire was laid bare before him. Yuuri's heart was broken, and he felt numb and lost.

Leaning forward, Viktor spoke to the driver. “How much longer before we arrive?”

“About ten minutes, as long as we don't get diverted again... damn!” As he spoke they rounded another corner and saw yet another sign. Viktor raised an eyebrow as the human in charge of it waved them down an even smaller, quieter street.

“Stop the car.”

“Sir?”

“Stop the car, now.”

The vehicle pulled over and Viktor cautiously opened the door, stepping out and gazing around. Yuuri ignored him until his sire beckoned him to his side. The order was a pull somewhere in the back of his mind, activating his body no matter what he desired. Since Georgi died, Viktor had been puppeting him almost constantly, since he lacked any will to move on his own. Even hunger barely motivated him.

The streets around them looked shabby and were devoid of nightlife. As he looked for landmarks, Viktor could smell sewage and sense recent human activity, but no people in the immediate area. His expression grew darker.

“Where are all the people?”

“The last diversion said something about a gas leak... perhaps they've been evacuated?” The driver shrugged, uninterested. “Sir, if you'll get back in the car...”

“No” Viktor shook his head, stepping away from the door and pulling Yuuri close to him. Throwing his senses further out, he drew on his newly augmented abilities to search the streets around them. Everything instinct he had was screaming that there was something wrong, but he could find no trace of danger. With a resigned noise, the driver turned the engine off and waited for Viktor to stop behaving so oddly. The hire was for the evening, if his client wanted to stand on a street corner looking paranoid, so be it.

_He knows something's up._

Nodding, Otabek sent the message via text to the other two, watching Yuri closely as the blonde monitored Viktor. The vampire was perched on their rented motorcycle, his hands resting on the gas tank and his gaze focused three streets away, where their target had stopped the car. Communication while his Sight was elsewhere had to be telepathic, he wasn't able to control his body while his mind was away. Completely reliant on Otabek for protection and to update the others, he let his slender frame rest against the nephilim's chest as he watched Viktor.

_Is he going to bolt? He's only a few streets away from the trap..._

_I'm not sure. He's wary... and he's out of the car. I think he's going to retreat the way he came, if he runs._

_Then we'll have to make sure he can't go that way._ Otabek sent a message to Mila, and a few moments later there was an earsplitting sound of sirens as two police vehicles closed on Viktor's location.

As the cars pulled up on the stationary vehicle, the driver cursed again and rolled down his window. “Sir, I think you should get back in the car...”

“I said no” Viktor snapped, watching the Italian policemen approach them. Both cars were flashing their lights and as they pulled over one of the men shouted and waved his arm.

“Sir, you cannot stay here. Please proceed along the street to the edge of the district.”

“Is there a problem?” Viktor rested his elbow on the roof of the car and forced a smile that did not reach his eyes. “I'm looking for a friend's house...”

“There is a gas leak in this area... it's being evacuated. Please sir, get back in your car and follow our directions.”

“How convenient” Viktor muttered, eyeing the humans. Beside him, Yuuri leaned against the car door and wrapped his arms around his chest, the scent of fresh blood stirring a tiny reaction from him. “I think we're in trouble, my love.” There was no reply, and Viktor looked sadly at the blank expression on his child's face. With a gesture, he sent the smaller vampire stumbling towards the police cars, lips pulling back from his fangs in a snarl.

_He's going to make Yuuri attack the policemen!_

Wordlessly, Otabek kicked the bike into life and launched them forward. Snapping his focus back to his immediate surroundings, Yuri swore and grabbed the front of the seat, silently shouting the order to attack to the others. As they raced towards the standoff, Otabek felt the pull of magic as Viktor sensed their approach and began to react.

“His power... he's stronger!”

“We expected that!” Yuri shouted back over the roar of the bike. “Focus on getting him to the trap. Push him every inch of the way if you have to! I'll contain Yuuri.”

“Don't kill him!”

“I know!”

Slowing the bike was out of the question, and besides, it provided a useful weapon against Viktor's first attack. As a wall of black smoke shot towards them, Otabek yanked the bike into a slide and Yuri leaped from the front, crashing into the Japanese vampire and bowling him into the side of a police car with a bone-breaking thud. The nephilim stayed on the bike, letting the speed drag him through Viktor's assault before he jumped clear. As he rolled and regained his feet, he saw the motorcycle impact the side of Viktor's vehicle, the driver diving out of the open door to escape. The explosion was deafening, and Otabek's senses reeled.

He had Viktor's attention, and even as he pushed himself upright and shook his head to clear it, Otabek sensed a second wave of raw magic heading towards him. Grinning, he spread his arms wide and let it wash over him, ignoring the pain of the spell and focusing on the _power_ behind it, feeling it seep into his skin and tear through his soul. Viktor was a sorcerer, but the dark nephilim had become a _creature_ of black magic... an attack of pure force was like trying to drown the ocean. Absorbing the power of the unfocused spell, Otabek stepped out of the cloud of smoke and stretched his wings, roaring his defiance as Viktor gaped at him.

That was when Leo hit Viktor from the side.

The impact of the Latino resembled a truck striking a fragile building. Viktor crumpled at the blow and was carried along as Leo continued to run. Angling his shoulder to catch the Russian's stomach, he lifted him and barrelled down the side street towards Otabek's original ambush, and the runic circle drawn there. Every one of them had the same instructions... get Viktor into a circle no matter what the cost. There were several of them dotted around each potential route, Otabek had spent the previous two days creating them, driving himself without mercy and drawing heavily on Yuri's power to stay functional. The blonde had devoured several weeks worth of blood rations during the process in order to stay combat ready.

Leo made it as far as the end of the street before Viktor recovered his wits and a spell halted their momentum. Breaking the Latino's hold on him using his smoke, Viktor growled in fury and twisted his ephemeral grip. The sound of Leo's arm breaking echoed like a gunshot, and the younger vampire yelled in shock and pain.

At the cry, Otabek lowered his head like a bull charging, heading towards Viktor at a dead run. Seeing the nephilim coming at him full speed, Viktor swung his captive into his path and then fled, heading away from the fight between the two Yuri's by the cars. As Otabek and Leo went down in a heap, Viktor's cruel laugh faltered as he saw what was waiting for him at the end of the alley. His middle child raised her hands and he stopped as if he'd crashed into an invisible barrier, arms locking to his sides. Unable to even move a finger, Viktor cursed helplessly until Mila forced his jaw closed.

“Mila, move him!” Otabek shouted, and she nodded as she began dragging Viktor back along the street, towards the small crossroads and the waiting trap. Leo was upright, his arm healing as he yanked Otabek to his feet, so he spotted the next attack before it hit. Unable to do more than shout a warning, he watched with horror as Guang Hong appeared behind Mila and grabbed her, snapping her neck with brutal efficiency. As she dropped to the ground he turned to face his lover, his expression utterly horrified and furious.

“I... can't... he...”

Viktor gestured, the restraints Mila had placed on him instantly disappearing as she lost consciousness. His child stood over her body, grabbing her by the hair and lifting her, one hand gripping her shoulder as he prepared to tear her head off. Otabek realised what he was about to do a second after Leo, who was already running towards his lover. All the nephilim could do was try to prevent Viktor's countermove on the Latino.

As Leo crashed into Guang Hong and knocked Mila out of his hands, Otabek threw a wall of power between the Latino and Viktor. The sorcerer growled as his smoke was deflected, and instantly turned it on the nephilim. This was magic in a structured form, and Otabek knew immediately that he would not be able to absorb it. The best he could do was keep it at bay.

Guang Hong was fighting his lover and Otabek could hear Leo weeping as he disabled the smaller vampire. From the sounds, he was methodically breaking Guang Hong's limbs and shattering his spine, injuries that would take time to heal and stop him from being able to move in the meantime. Although they had agreed that strategy if Viktor tried to puppet any of his children, Otabek knew it would be destroying Leo to do it. He tried not to think about Yuri taking the same actions against the Japanese vampire behind him.

With a roar of rage, Otabek retracted his defences and lashed out, driving Viktor back with wave after wave of inky blackness. The sorcerer couldn't absorb raw magic the way he could, and was forced to dodge and shield himself with his smoke. Inch by inch, Otabek pushed him along the street towards the crossroads.

Without warning, Viktor changed tactics and Otabek struck him a heavy blow as he dropped his shield. Shuddering from the impact, the sorcerer snapped his fingers and black spikes exploded from the ground, impaling the nephilim through the thigh and chest. Screaming with agony, Otabek writhed as he tried to free himself and Viktor took off in the other direction... straight into the concealed circle. There was a blinding flash of light and Viktor howled in rage and pain as he was encased in a torrent of purple fire. Dragging himself off the spikes and using a spell to clot his wounds, Otabek snarled in pain as he made his way to the trapped vampire.

“Let Guang Hong and Yuuri go” he ordered, and Viktor sneered at him.

“Release my only remaining weapons? Not a chance.” Otabek raised a hand and the circle contracted, pressing in towards the sorcerer. The heat from the purple flames singed his clothes and Viktor growled in pain and fury.

“Let them go _now_.”

There was a shout from Leo at the end of the alley, and Otabek blinked as Yuri contacted him at the same moment. He got a single image of the crumpled body of Viktor's youngest child lying in the smashed hood of a police car, then he sensed the blonde heading towards him.

“Are you going to kill me, Otabek?”

Gazing at the imprisoned vampire, the nephilim wondered about that himself. His rage was dangerously close to the surface, he could feel the draw towards _berserker_ that he had sworn never to experience again. Without it though, he was certain of one thing. He could not kill the man in front of him in cold blood. Neither could Yuri or Mila, which left only Leo.

The Latino was approaching now, carrying the two vampires over his shoulders. Dropping them unceremoniously into a pile, he spat a long string of hatred at Viktor in Spanish before turning to the nephilim. Eyeing the wings and horns warily, he gestured to the prisoner.

“What are you waiting for? Kill him already.”

“I... I can't.”

“Fine. I'll do it.”

“Leo no!” Otabek's shout froze him before he reached the circle and he looked back in confusion. “The flames will kill you on contact, the same as they will him. You can't touch him until I release him...”

“And the moment you release me, I'll kill you all” Viktor finished for him, grinning. Otabek snarled and the circle flared, making the sorcerer yelp as the heat scorched his skin. “So what, you're going to keep me in this forever? How will you explain that to the humans? Or are you just going to wait for me to pass out and fall into the fire? That's the same as murder, you know.”

“He knows.” Otabek turned at the voice behind him and watched as Yuuri's battered form was dropped onto the pile of Guang Hong and Mila. Wrapping his arms around his chest, Yuri stepped up to the circle and peered through the fire, meeting Viktor's furious gaze.

“I know what _you_ would do” the blonde said, watching Viktor's expression as he spoke. “You'd burn us all to death without a thought, then continue your day. Callous, unfeeling monster that you are.”

“And so we return to my question” Viktor watched the emotions flicker across Otabek's face. “None of my children can kill me. Leo can't even touch me. The only one with the power to act is you, nephilim... and you are a coward, trapped in a bond of hatred with the one who tortured you and damned your soul. Let me go and I'll punish him for you... I'll wrap him in so many spells, he'll never misbehave again. You can keep him as a plaything if you like, I'll even let you keep my youngest too, since you're so fond of him...”

“ _You did this_ ” Otabek interrupted him, voice shaking with barely restrained rage. “You nearly drove Yuri mad when he was made... you starved him and tortured him... you set him hunting for a nephilim, and put him on the path to destroying _me_... you turned Katsuki into a monster and then broke his heart... arranged for the death of your father... _you_ _murdered your own brother_... you are poison, Viktor. A cancer in the heart of everyone you touch. _You_ are the one who should be punished.”

“Yet you won't kill me. Killing me in cold blood... that would be the end of you, wouldn't it? The final act... the magic would conquer you, and make you as twisted as me.”

“I said you should be punished, not killed.” Otabek raised his head, the purple fire gleaming off the curve of his horns. His skin glowed as he began chanting, a deep, resonating growl that made the air crackle.

Viktor unleashed a scream of rage and terror as Otabek raised his hands, talons flickering with black and purple lightning as he approached the circle. Sensing the danger radiating from the furious nephilim the other two vampires backed off, dragging their brethren with them. Mila and Guang Hong were stirring, their bodies nearly recovered from the damage, but Yuuri was still out cold, his ability to heal a lot slower. Clasping him protectively in her arms, Mila stared up at Otabek in horror as the purple fire around Viktor disappeared and the sorcerer collapsed into a heap in the remains of the circle.

“What's he doing?” she demanded, “is he letting him go?”

“I... I don't think so” Yuri shook his head as Otabek finished his incantation. Switching to English, the nephilim gazed down on the crumpled, weeping vampire.

“Punishment suitable for your crimes Viktor... everything you've taken from others, everything you've _ever_ done was to increase your own power... so that is what I've taken from you. I've stripped you of every last drop of your power, and left you with nothing but the shattered remains of your self-sabotaged soul.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Violence, violent imagery, self mutilation, cannibalism

_Glass shatters. Victor spins out of control, plummeting down through the purple haze of his own mind, crashing through layer after layer. Pain ruins his body as he plunges into a mirror of memories. As each mirror breaks, the glass slashes at his face and hands and he screams, his blood black and writhing like smoke._

Yuuri carries Georgi's body up the stairs, out of the basement. He is going to bury it in the garden of the dacha. He weeps as he tries not to look at the remains of the corpse's face. His arms shake with grief and horror. It is the last time he speaks.

_The mirror shatters and Viktor falls again. Further back he falls, and his memories become crimson and full of rage._

The boat sways as they move across the ocean, still reeking of death. Yakov sits in his cabin, testing the limits of his new power. Before him, the humans he is practising on dance and cavort, men pressing their lips together in a parody of love even as they sink daggers into each other's limbs. The carnage is enough to turn Viktor's stomach, but he knows it is about to get so much worse. Yakov orders the last man to approach him and in moments he is clapping his hands with delight as the human begins to carve himself up as if his own body were nothing but a joint of meat, serving himself to the monstrous elder like a buffet. Yakov's new strength holds Viktor captive as easily as the humans, and the vampire is forced to watch the entire performance. Only when Yakov is done eating does he release his eldest child. His cruel laugh follows Viktor as he flees to the bow, vomiting blood helplessly into the ocean and turning the spray as red as the floor of the cabin below.

_Falling, falling. He screams but his voice has broken. He grasps, but his hands find nothing. The next mirror races towards him and he weeps._

Dusty tomes surround him, a single candle more than enough light to allow him to read. He searches for rituals, words of power, magics that will give him more strength. His position in Yakov's court is yet to be determined, he is barely a century old. Without more power, he risks being cast aside when the old man's passions find a new target. Or worse.

Magic is within him now, not just the temple words he used as a human and the simple parlour tricks he played with the power of his own soul. His body burns with sorcery, etched inside him with the first taste of his sire's blood. Desperately he searches for a way to become indispensable to Yakov, a way to survive now the ancient vampire has laid claim to the whole of Siberia and his enemies have begun to rally.

_The smoke surrounds him now, boiling out of him like arterial spray. His body feels weak, helpless to prevent himself slamming through another mirror. As the glass shatters, he closes his eyes and becomes limp as he falls._

The sound of rioting echoes across the Alexandrian night, alongside the scent of blood and the screams of the dying as the Serapeum is destroyed. Dragging his ceremonial robes off over his head, Viktor strips down to his loincloth and grabs handfuls of mud and dung from the street, smearing his body to erase his temple bodypaint and hide the unusual pallor of his skin. Down alley after alley he runs, trying to blend in with the crowds of enraged peasants who are exhaulting at the destruction he is fleeing. Another mile and he is outside the city limits, wrapping a stolen length of sack cloth around his shoulders and hiding himself in the squalid shanty town that crowds along the bottom of the wall.

He weeps for the brothers he has lost, his mind replaying the horror of the Christians capturing and castrating the priests of the old gods in their own temples before throwing them into the crowds to be torn apart. His anger burns within him and he forces himself to his feet, seized with a need to keep moving. As he staggers south, he is unaware of the short, balding man following him. Each time he turns to the stalker, the man whispers instructions to him to forget, to keep walking, to look forward. Each time he obeys, and the following presence is erased from his mind.

_The last mirror approaches and as he strikes it he screams, his flesh flayed to the bone by shards of unforgiving glass._

The teenage Viktor sits at the front of the group, listening to the story of the adventures of Ra, the bringing of the sun. Born to this land yet not of it, he is a talented slave; bright and able to learn. Norse slaves are rare, and his silvery hair is unusual enough to catch the eye of the priests of Thoth. They believe he is a creature of magic. Claimed from his master by the temple, he knows his life depends on fulfilling that role. He half listens to the story, his mind wandering in thoughts of the future that has suddenly opened up for him.

_The mirror breaks and he lands, flesh falling from his bones as he weeps. Memories turn to sand like glass under a flame and he cradles his head in his hands, lost, afraid and alone._

  
  


“Viktor, can you hear me?”

He looks up and gasps at the beauty in front of him, reaching towards it with a cry of longing. The face is unknown to him, but the eyes seem to recognise the shattered pieces of his soul. Slim arms gather him in and he floats as voices buzz around his head. Some are angry, others sound worried.

“W-who are you?” he realises he has never heard his own voice before, yet somehow he knows how to speak. He stares at the creature in front of him, pale skin and dark hair and those deep brown eyes.

“My name is Yuuri.”


	32. Chapter 32

Christophe's car screeched to a halt, the driver swearing at the man standing in the middle of the road surrounding the fountain square. Glancing at the trembling human sat next to him, the vampire gave a curt instruction for Phichit to stay in the vehicle, then pushed open the door and stepped out. Viktor's text message had been a link to his GPS co-ordinates, and Christophe had bundled them both into the car and headed towards the location to help immediately. Obviously, the move was expected.

Watching the younger vampire step onto the street, Emil pulled his lips back from his teeth in a mirthless smile. The sight of Michele's former owner made his blood boil, waves of heat flooding through his usually ice cold body. He recognised it for the extreme territoriality that had always marred his otherwise calm and benign personality, but for once it held no shame for him. He embraced it gladly, knowing the power it could grant him. From the look on Christophe's face, he was going to need every bit of it.

“Good to see you again. How's Mickey?”

Emil growled, his muscles tensing. His job was to stall Christophe, not to engage with him unless he had to... but the Swiss vampire's words struck a bitter note inside his mind and he felt rage trying to claw its way into his throat. His shoulders hunched as his lip curled in a snarl.

“You never said thank you, by the way. Very rude.” Christophe was walking to the front of the car, his body relaxed and ready for a fight. Emil's growl rose in volume and despite himself, he took the bait.

“Thank you for what?”

“I'm sure you're enjoying all those years of training I gave him... has he shown you how flexible he is yet? Or the things he can do with his tongue?” Christophe grinned as he spoke, each word perfectly calculated to enrage the Varangian.

With a scream of pure fury, Emil launched himself at the other vampire, fingers locked into claws that drove straight for Christophe's eyes. Laughing, the Swiss dodged easily, Emil's rage making his attack simple to read. “You should try and convince Mila to lend Sara to the party sometime... I never had much luck with that, but it's always nice to play with a complete set...”

Roaring, Emil swiped again and Christophe leaped aside, letting the older vampire crash into the car. His momentum dented the bonnet and the driver kicked open the door, fleeing into the nearest alley. Phichit threw himself out of the back seat, tucking himself behind another vehicle for protection. As Emil dragged himself upright, dazed from the impact, Christophe struck.

Pain exploded in the older vampire's head as Christophe grabbed him, slamming his skull into the ground with blistering force. Throwing his hands out, Emil prevented a second blow and rolled, tripping the Swiss and sending him crashing to the ground. In an instant, the Varangian was on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat.

“You... monster... kill you...” unable to form coherent sentences, Emil howled as thumbs drove into his eyes and his grip broke. Kicking the older vampire away from him, Christophe pulled himself to his feet, repairing the damage to the bones in his neck as he rose. Rubbing blood out of his eyes as they healed, Emil snarled again, preparing to launch another attack.

“Stop!”

Both vampires recoiled as Phichit flung himself between them, his face streaked with tears. Facing Emil, the human put his arms out, gasping in terror as he tried to protect his owner. Behind him, Christophe stared in astonishment as his pet used his body as a shield.

“Please... please stop! Please don't hurt him!”

“Get out of the way, Phichit!” Christophe grabbed the human by the shoulder, and the Thai covered his hand with his own.

“He's older than you... and a lot stronger. He'll _kill_ you, Chris.”

“Viktor will...”

“ _Fuck Viktor!”_ Phichit whirled, his eyes furious. “He killed his own brother! He doesn't care about you... he's _using_ you! Don't die for him!”

“Phichit...”

“Please Chris... please... lets just go...”

Watching the human plead with his owner, Emil forced air into his lungs to calm down. There was no possibility of him attacking while the fragile pet was in the way, it wasn't in his nature to treat human life so carelessly. Breathing deeply, he straightened and focused on the shocked Swiss.

“He's right, Christophe. Georgi was one of his oldest, greatest allies... and he cut out his eyes after he murdered him. What do you think he'll do to you when he grows tired of you?”

“He... he mutilated him?” Christophe's expression turned sour, and Emil raised an eyebrow.

“He didn't tell you that? He sent Georgi's eyes to Yuri in the mail. That's the man you're fighting to protect... to help.”

Christophe curled his lip. “Georgi was Roman... the burial rites...”

“We saw to it. Guang Hong can be very creative when it comes to death. Of course you'd know all about that, Celestino is Roman too... were you planning to bury him properly after you had Viktor kill him?”

Staring at his owner, Phichit's eyes filled with tears. “Is that true? Were you going to betray your father? Does love truly mean nothing to you?”

“Love... the bond between a vampire and his sire isn't _love_. There is only power... and pain” Christophe growled, but Emil shook his head.

“You're wrong. Celestino cares very much for you... that's why he's worked so hard to keep you _away_ from the Council... from the politics. The same as my sire did for me... when he was alive.”

“Your sire?”

“The original sixth seat of the Council. My sister Agorra succeeded him after he chose to walk into the dawn.” The pain of the ancient loss roughened Emil's voice, and the human's eyes filled with tears again.

“You still love him” he murmured, and Emil shrugged.

“I'll love him until the day I die. The same as he loved me. Christophe... Celestino ordered you back to America for a reason... he wanted you out of the way of this fight. He knew Yuri was coming for Viktor... that it was time for the family to deal with him. He's a _monster_ , only focused on his own power. He'll destroy Celestino, the Council, everything...”

“I know. I've always known that was his plan... but it meant I'd be free” Christophe's voice was thick with emotion, and he tightened his grip on Phichit's shoulder, pulling him gently out of the way.

“Chris...”

“Go back to the car and hide” Christophe said, and the human screwed up his fists, opening his mouth to protest. “Do as I say” he repeated, his voice unexpectedly soft and loving. With a heartbroken sob, Phichit fled.

“You've lost, Christophe. You won't make me angry again.” Emil stood patiently in the middle of the street, arms loose at his sides. “The next attack will be full strength. I'm giving you one chance... take your lover and run away. Don't make me kill you.”

Raising his head, Christophe ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes gleaming with unshed blood tears. “I gave him my word, Emil... I promised Viktor that I would help him, no matter what the cost. I can't stop now.”

“You've kept that promise, Christophe. Viktor has lost.”

They both looked around at the sound of Yuri's voice ringing out through the square as the blonde stepped into view. Beside him, Otabek stood calmly, his human form restored, his clothes ripped and torn as mute evidence of his battle. As Christophe watched, the others appeared and fanned out, Yuuri leading Viktor by the hand. The tall Russian stared at them in confusion before resting his head on the smaller vampire's shoulder with a sigh.

“Viktor... what have you done to him?”

“He's been neutralised” Yuri said, folding his arms across his chest. “Yuuri's taking care of him from now on. The fight is over, Christophe. Stand down.”

“The Council...”

“Authorised this” Yuri smiled unpleasantly, “or at least, they will ratify it. I can assure you of that.”

Sagging, Christophe leaned back on the damaged car, raising his hands in surrender. With a low cry, Phichit darted back to his side and the vampire tucked his pet in his arms sadly. “You risked yourself for me” he admonished the Thai, who nodded.

“Of course I did. I love you.”

“Foolish boy” the Swiss shook his head, nuzzling him affectionately.

“Is this really over?” Emil crossed to Yuri, looking curiously at Viktor. The Russian was staring about as if he'd never seen a city before, and Yuuri was speaking in quiet, soothing English, which he clearly couldn't understand. He seemed to be responding to the sound of his voice though, and his eyes shone with adoration every time he looked at the Japanese vampire.

“Otabek took away Viktor's power... but he lost his memories in the process. He's harmless.”

Rumbling agreement, Otabek nodded. “He'll never be able to access or manipulate magic again, I've cut him off from the source. He's as helpless as a newborn.”

“You're not going to kill him?” Emil sounded pleasantly surprised, but Yuri shook his head.

“Otabek _did_ kill him... the part of him that was dangerous and corrupt. He left him with his original, human nature... what's left of him is innocent.” Pulling a rueful face, Yuri shrugged. “I've lost my taste for murdering innocents, for some reason.”

“I can't imagine why” Emil chuckled, looking at Otabek. The nephilim kept a carefully straight face as he returned the look. “What happens now?”

“Now, we go to the Council and try and get away with all this” Mila gestured, indicating the various battlegrounds spread across the city. “I'll finish organising the clean-up before we get there. Yuri, would you be a dear and sort out some transport for us?”

Grunting, the blonde sent a text and in a few minutes a small fleet of taxis arrived. As she climbed into her car, Mila eyed Christophe.

“I don't intend to tell Celestino about your part in this plot” she said, “unless you decide to do something stupid like try to unravel our story...”

“You want me to lie for you?”

“ _Yes_ , darling. This fight between you and Emil was personal, over the ownership of your former pet, Michele, who now belongs to the Varangian. Agreed?”

Helping the trembling Thai into the car, Christophe shrugged. “Feelings about property often run high, and Emil is known for being unusually emotional when it comes to humans. It was inevitable that we'd clash at some point.”

“That's a good boy” Mila smiled thinly then slammed her car door, giving instructions to the driver as she disappeared into her phone to finish covering their tracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're really close to the finish now... I'm going to miss this world! Hopefully some of my other works will keep you entertained once it's done <3


	33. Chapter 33

The Council chamber fell silent as Yuri pushed the doors open, leading Mila, Guang Hong, Emil and Otabek into the room. Six expressionless faces turned to them, and Celestino rose from his chair.

“Welcome. I trust you have a report for us?”

“Before that” a broad, dark skinned vampire leaned forward, his position in the fifth chair marking him as the vampiric ruler of Africa. He gestured at Otabek. “What's the mortal doing here? Did you bring a snack for us, Yuri?”

Raising an eyebrow, Yuri glanced at the nephilim beside him with amusement. “I think he'd stick in your teeth, Menkaure. You've heard the rumours of my acquisition of a True Blood nephilim, have you not?” A murmur of shock met his words, and the ancient vampires reappraised Otabek, who stared calmly back at them. Yuri had given him an apologetic explanation for the need to 'claim' him in front of the Council, and he was satisfied that the blonde knew better than to try it in private.

“He can stay” Celestino spoke with an unmistakable tone of authority, and the rest of the Council capitulated wordlessly. “Your report, please Yuri.”

“Viktor no longer holds a position as the head of the Children of Sibera. He has been removed by internal family means. His claim to the Second Seat on the Council is no longer valid. I am here to ratify his successor.”

“Why did you do this? Viktor was your sire...”

“He still _is_ my sire. He lives, although he is considerably reduced. As for why...” Yuri drew himself up and narrowed his eyes, “he murdered his brother, Georgi, in cold blood. The Children of Siberia do not tolerate _any_ attacks on our own. A response was required.”

Muttering filled the room; Georgi had been popular, and had sat at Yakov's side on the Council for centuries. Looking around, Celestino shrewdly gauged the mood. “Given this evidence, I do not consider this a Council matter. It is clearly an internal, family issue that has now been resolved. Do the other members agree?”

One by one, the other vampires at the table nodded. When all had agreed, the tall blonde woman in the sixth chair spoke up. “Why is my brother here? He has no place in such a family disagreement.”

“To issue an apology to Lord Celestino” Emil smoothly bowed, stepping forward as Yuri settled his face into a neutral expression. “I would like to formerly apologise for raising a hand to your child, Christophe, earlier tonight. There was some confusion over the ownership of a pet, which we have since resolved.”

Celestino stared at him, his eyes twinkling despite his stern expression. “I accept your apology. I trust it will not happen again?”

“No, my Lord.” Bowing again, Emil stepped back and raised his chin, carefully not meeting the King of America's amused eyes. She clearly knew her brother well enough to understand the situation.

“Who will claim the throne now?” The Third Seat rested her chin on her hands, looking appraisingly at Yuri. “You are the eldest remaining Child of Siberia, Yuri. Will you resign as Spymaster, and take the Second Seat?”

Ignoring the startled reactions from his siblings and Emil at hearing his formal title, Yuri shook his head. “No, Third Seat. I would be a very poor fit in a diplomatic capacity” there was an amused chuckle of agreement from the other vampires, “besides, no-one else could control my networks. Whoever took over would have to start again from scratch.”

“That would be unacceptable” Menkaure rumbled, and the others nodded vehemently.

“My proposal is this” Yuri leaned against the empty chair of the Second Seat, “my sister, Mila, is the second eldest and has spent most of her life in the company of Viktor, Georgi, Dimitri and Yakov. She is comparatively young to hold such a position, but she has my full support as King of Sibera, with Guang Hong as her lieutenant.” Eyeing the lack of openly hostile reactions in the room, he decided to push. “I endorse her as Second Seat, although I recognise that only you can ratify her ascension.”

There was a long moment of silence, which Mila broke by stepping forward and resting her hand on the chair next to Yuri's. “My brother does me a great honour with his support. I know I am young and not worthy to sit in your company, but I would relish an opportunity to learn from your wisdom and better serve my family. Yuri has made it clear to me that my position as King is non negotiable” she rolled her eyes at the blonde and Celestino chuckled, “however that does not guarantee a seat in this August company. Only you can decide if I am welcome.”

As she finished speaking, Yuri briefly covered her hand with his then stepped back, symbolically absenting himself from the discussion. Fed up with politics already, he tucked himself into Otabek's arms and ignored the surprised looks from the Council, needing the contact with the nephilim to calm his mind. The night felt as if it had dragged on forever, yet dawn was still a few hours away. He was hungry and exhausted, the telltale ache in his body indicating that Otabek was nearly ready to collapse from his own exertions. Watching the Council discuss the matter, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Otabek's cheek.

“I have no objection” Agorra said, cutting the discussion short with a wave of her hand. “Her reputation is known to me, and Yuri will support her. I ratify.”

“As do I” Zhao Feiyan nodded, her eyes gleaming as she apprised the younger vampire.

“I also ratify” Celestino spoke up, and the remaining Council members stared at him. “Viktor was... unstable. Mila is known for her competence and diplomacy. She will be a good fit.”

One by one, the others nodded their approval. They had no choice, Yuri speculated; with three of the six agreeing any other decision would split the Council and no-one wanted that. Besides, alienating the Spymaster wasn't in anyone's best interests, and they all knew it.”

“Yuri, that will be all for now” Celestino rose and gave a graceful bow to the blonde, his expression warm. “Please have a safe trip back to America.”

“Thank you, First Seat. Until next time” he returned the bow, deep enough to show respect to the whole room, then bowed again to Mila, deep and deliberate. “With your permission, my King?”

“Thank you, Yura” smiling affectionately, Mila turned away as they exited the room, leaving her to take her place at the table. The diminutive was not lost on any of the older vampires, and they reappraised her carefully as Yuri returned her smile.

Yuri stood with most of their small group in the Leonardo da Vinci International Airport, discussing how best to support the new King on her return to Russia.

“We'll take Dimitri's dacha” Guang Hong said, ignoring Leo's soft grumble. “It needs to be cleansed properly before it can be used as a habitation. Otabek's given me a spell to remove Viktor's magic from the basement, after that I need to exorcise the place and make sure any bodies are buried. I'll take it slow” he added, smiling at Mila's worried expression. She nodded reluctantly, exchanging a sympathetic look with Leo.

“You're sure about Russia?” Yuri addressed Emil, who smiled gently at his unspoken question.

“I won't separate the Crispino twins unless they're ready. They're flying out to Moscow today, so we'll meet them there. Do me a favour though” he handed Yuri a keyring with a sad smile. “Water my plants for the next few centuries, will you? I'll be back once I've woken up.”

Understanding immediately that Emil was already making plans for his period of mourning over Michele when the time came, Yuri threw his arms around his friend and buried his head in his shoulder. “Never change” he murmured softly, and Emil gave him a squeeze.

“Do you and Otabek want to live in my house until then?” Yuri raised an eyebrow, and Emil shrugged. “Your place has already collected a huge amount of bad memories. Maybe a fresh start would be good for you? Besides, I've doubled the library since you were last there, it's over four floors now. You'll never get bored.”

“Thank you. We'd love to” Yuri sounded stunned, and Emil laughed.

“My hatred of vampires in my space doesn't extend to my family” the taller Varangian said, and Yuri bit his lip to fight back any further outbursts of emotion. One hug a day was already more than he could stand.

“Then it's settled. Give Seung-gil my regards if you see him” Mila said, and Yuri grinned.

“I doubt he'll be interested in politeness. The Third Seat has ordered him to Seoul... something about clearing the air between him and his sire. She's threatening to appoint him to the Chinese court as a 'punishment' for his involvement with Siberia unless his sire forgives him and allows him to reclaim his lineage.”

“Does he know about this yet?”

“Nope” Yuri's grin became nearly demonic. “I'm carrying her message to him personally.”

“Enjoy” Mila said, chuckling.

“I might let Otabek deliver it. He's still got some anger to work out there, it could be cathartic for him.” All five of them laughed and looked over at the nephilim, who was deep in conversation with Yuuri.

“Are you sure about letting Viktor loose?” Emil asked, watching the silver haired Russian for a moment. Yuri shrugged.

“He's not loose, he's with Yuuri and I'll keep an eye on them from a distance. Otabek says he's not a threat any more, so I believe him.”

“It's so strange to hear you trust someone” Emil laughed, and Yuri gave him a disgusted look.

“Otabek isn't _someone_. He's a part of me... and you know the only person I trust is myself.”

“True enough. Let's say goodbye to him, then we need to board our flight” Emil added, heading towards the nephilim with an affectionate smile. As they approached, they could hear him finalising details with the young vampire.

“If you need _anything_ , call the number marked A – that will put you in touch with Yuri's contacts in Russia who can get you pretty much anything you could imagine. My number's in there too” Otabek added with a small smile, passing a smartphone to Yuuri. The Japanese pocketed it gratefully, then grabbed the nephilim into a tight hug. The chill of his skin left a deep sadness in Otabek, but he buried it. At least now he didn't have to watch his best friend grow old and die, while he remained unchanging. Indicating Viktor, he asked “will you two be alright?”

Glancing at the tall Russian as he sat on a nearby bench, watching the bustle of the airport with huge eyes, Yuuri shrugged. “Hasetsu is calm, it's a good place for both of us to recover. I've already spoken to my parents and given them a cover story. They were just so relieved to hear from me after such a long time, they didn't ask too many questions.”

“Everyone would understand if you wanted to be away from him...”

Yuuri gave Otabek an irritated look, nevertheless tinged with affection for the nephilim. “I love him” he said, simply. “When I first met him, this was the man I saw; gentle, calm, endlessly delighted by the world. It wasn't until I moved to Alaska that the cracks began to show. In a way, I feel like I have him back. I know that probably doesn't make sense...”

“It does” Otabek reassured him, and they gazed at Viktor for a while. He was watching the people moving around the airport in wonder, pressing his fingers to his lips when the antics of some of the children made him laugh. “No sign of his memories coming back?”

“Nothing yet. I tried your suggestion and told him about his family, but he was just surprised to learn he had so many relatives. He was sad when I told him his brothers were dead. It was like he could make the connections emotionally, but he had no knowledge of the people themselves.”

Otabek sighed. “Even if he gets his memories back, he shouldn't be able to do magic. If he even hints at beginning to regain that ability, I'll know and I'll come to you straight away.”

“If he remembers what he's done he'll be devastated.” Yuuri's voice was soft, and Otabek gave him another hug.

“You'll be there to help him through it, if it comes to that.”

“I'll always be there for him.”

Tucking Yuri into his arms, Otabek watched their friends head to their various departure lounges. Although the flight to America wasn't due until the following evening, they'd come to see them all off and were booked into a nearby vampire safe hotel for the day. As the bright splash of Mila's hair disappeared, he sighed and pressed his nose against Yuri's scalp.

“If you don't want to stay at Emil's, we can go somewhere else. Anywhere else. The Twins can sort out a house sitter for as long as we need. You've been trapped for so long... what should we do now we're free?”

Leaning back in the nephilim's embrace, Yuri gazed at him blankly for a moment. “I... I have no idea” he admitted, twining his fingers through Otabek's. “I... I've never been free before. I don't even know where to start, or what you want...”

Pushing a stray bit of blonde hair back behind his ear, the nephilim felt the weight of the bond between them. Searching for the words he needed, he gazed into the effervescent green of his vampire's eyes. “The whole world is waiting for you... now is the time to take off, to fulfil your dreams. Now is your beginning... this is your time. Live your own life, sing your own song.” He kissed Yuri, pouring all his emotion and desire into the touch. “I'll walk with you through the centuries, while you guide our steps. Believe in yourself, in us... whatever you chose, I'll be right there beside you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this has come to an end. I'm going to miss it so much >.<
> 
> I hope you can forgive my indulgence of using Otabek's monologue at the end, it's such a beautiful piece of dialogue from the show and I knew I needed to include at least part of it.
> 
> It's been a wild, beautiful ride, thank you all for coming with me <3

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [ LLF Comment Project ](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Short comments  
> Long comments  
> Questions  
> readers talking to each other!
> 
> I reply to all comments eventually!
> 
> * * *
> 
> [Links](https://linktr.ee/artofsilvandar) to my online accounts  
> Some of my other fics you might enjoy:  
> ["Bought by Love"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16233995), my Otayuri Mafia AU  
> Canon based Kink!Otayuri fans[ click here!](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1144475) NSFW please note tags!  
> Post canon [Seung-gil x female OC ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16400234)(Yuri On Ice) fic for fans of romantic cis hetero slow burn  
> 


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